The Only Exception
by PeachxRing
Summary: A sellsword by trade fighting was the only thing she ever loved. It was no surprise that after arriving in Kings Landing her quick temper found her at odds with the Hound. She's driven to best him, that is until her past came back to haunt her. With his unexpected help, she finds herself falling for a man whos only love was killing. Can she beat back the demons of her past? Can he?
1. Unruly and Uncouth

It was midday on the Kingsroad, Isolt let out a sharp sigh before brushing some deep chestnut hair that had slipped from her braids and now clung to the sweat on her brow. She pursed her lips wiping the back of her hand on the dark boiled leather greaves she wore.

"I need to get off this gods damned horse." She groaned to herself, she released the reins of her speckled mare rubbing the ache in her upper thighs gently. It had been nearly a solid month of riding from the Green Fork to Kings Landing. "How much further?" Being on the road was nothing new for her, but she had never been this far south before. Nothing was familiar and she was beginning to long for a proper bed.

"Your bitchin' won't get us there any faster Isolt." Her elder cousin said gruffly "Sometimes you sound like a whining child again. As if I didn't have to put up with that shite long enough,". Isolt narrowed her eyes at his hardened much larger form, to which he replied with a wolfish grin. She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest, pressing them against her dark leather vest.

"Now, now Bronn I happen to share the same sentiment as our dear Isolt." Tyrion said glancing at her from his horse, with a quick smile "What I would give to be in my bed with a belly full of wine and a beautiful woman soothing my aching legs."

"We both know you'd rather her tend to a different ache," Bronn said with raised eyebrows and a grin. Isolt rolled her eyes at his crude comment while Tyrion flashed him a knowing smile. "After being with you ugly fuckers for so long I know I do."

"Disgusting," A quiver of repulsion shot through her at the brief thought of Bronn seeking some female companionship. The two had traveled together for the better part of a decade. She had seen sides to her cousin that no one should ever know about family. "I'll just be glad to be away from the both of you."

"You wound me, my fine lady, I thought we rather enjoyed each others company."

"Fuck off, we both know I ain't no 'fine lady'" Isolt said with a cheeky smirk, "You're decent enough, in _small_ measures." She added.

"Ah, I do so_ love_ your jokes. Very clever." Tyrion said, "Fair enough, though I suppose the same could be said for you." Tyrion said glancing over his shoulder for a moment. Isolt rolled her eyes, of course, he was right. Being good company wasn't something she was often praised for. "I'm sure you'll be as relieved as I am, my dear, when you look just over this next hill." Isolt urged her horse beside the Lord Imps. Her jaw dropped slightly at the image of Kings Landing in the hazy distance. Though Isolt had lived and traveled in Westeros most of her life, this was her first time ever seeing the capitol.

It was smaller then she had expected, though by no means could it be considered a trivial city. Though, while taking in the Kings Landing the Red Keep overpowered the capital with its imposing red stone towers dominating the southeastern corner of the city. Though she was thankful to have their destination within sight, a small discomfort began to fill her as they closed the distance between themselves and Kings Landing.

It had been several months since Isolt and Bronn had begun traveling alongside Tyrion Lannister. Initially, the Lord Imp was captive of Lady Catelyn Stark, who hired them as sell swords charged to assist in escorting him to her sister, Lysa Aryn, in the Vale to answer for his alleged crimes against her son and family. Getting to the Vale was simple enough and the Lord Imps company had been surprisingly enjoyable. She almost felt bad that she was helping bring him to certain death in the Vale. It was also no shock when Bronn agreed to champion for Tyrion in a trial by combat. Two things Isolt and Bronn shared a love for were fighting and gold.

Bronn won Lord Tyrions freedom in a less than honorable bout. Tyrion promised Bronn a larger sum of money and recruited the pair of cousins to escort him to Kings Landing where they would both be paid in full. Of course, things hadn't been that simple.

Though she would never admit it, Tyrion had truly been an agreeable traveling companion. More importantly, he had proven to be much hardier and useful than his small stature would indicate. He was smarter then any man she had met before and didn't seem to share the initial doubt most had in her faculties. Tyrion was a charming little Lord and from an entirely different world from what Isolt was comfortable with and yet she felt as though he understood her. Well at least to some degree. The fact the Tyrion did not believe himself to be above Isolt or her cousin the way most would have due to their low-born status improved her initial opinion of him. In fact, the only insults she ever heard him utter were against himself in an act of self-deprecating humor.

Without his quick thinking and sharp tongue, Isolt doubted they would've been able to make it out of the Vale. Though Bronn and Isolt were more than competent fighters there was little chance of them getting out of that situation unharmed. He was even glib enough able to convince Isolt, Bronn and the tribesmen (and women) to join The Lannister forces on the battlefield at the Green Fork. A battle, which she survived, and the Lannisters emerged victorious.

"What are your plans after arriving in King Landing? You said you've never been here before correct?" Tyrion asked, apparently he had been watching her somewhat awestruck observation of the city.

"Well to start off I'd like to get the gold you've promised me," Isolt said sharply, narrowing her eyes down at Tyrion. He let out a small sigh. "No good being in a new place if I don't have the gold to enjoy it."

"Aye, I'd say that's the first order of business as well," Bronn added.

"I've told you both not to worry about the matter of funds, you will both be well compensated for your efforts. A Lannister always pays their debts. This is especially true when it comes to dear friends," Tyrion said with a sincere look, Isolt rolled her eyes at the mention of 'friends'. There weren't many she considered true friends, so far Tyrion was counted among that small number. Despite her past dealings with nobles, Isolt trusted that what he said was true, he respected her which was more than could be said for most. "Perhaps I should have phrased this better. Are you planning on staying in Kings Landing after we arrive? There's no doubt I'll need all the friends I can get." Isolt glanced over towards Bronn quirking an inquisitive brow at him. They hadn't discussed their thoughts on whether or not they'd stick with Tyrion after getting paid. Bronn slicked his greasy black hair back from his face and turned towards Isolt with a roguish grin. It was clear from his response he was much keener on the idea then Isolt was.

"I don't think I'll be well received in the capitol." She stated flatly.

"No, I'm quite certain you will not be, but then again neither am I. I'm already a dwarf why shouldn't I have a male and female sell-sword at my side?" Isolt smirked at his comment; though he said it with jest she knew he was sincere.

"You're certainly a funny little man," Isolt remarked, Tyrion smiled warmly at her.

"Now that I can not deny. Lets hurry, the sooner I can be off this horse and in a bed with a belly full of wine, the better"

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_**(AN: I came up with this idea a few months ago and have been tinkering around with it since then and I'm finally pleased enough with it to share. This chapter is a sort of introduction to give you a small taste of Isolt. For all of you who also read The Hill and the Hound, have no fear I will be completing that one as well. Every story I post I intend to finish and that particular one only has a few chapters left before completion. In any case whether or not you're familiar with my other work welcome, thank you for checking it out. I go through bouts of consistency with posting, but I try my best to work with my work/ college schedule, while still delivering quality work. For this particular story I have written up to about chapter 12 so I have a good bit that's essentially ready to post. Just a heads up next chapter is much longer, I originally had this one and the next written as one single chapter but decided it was best to split them up. As always reviews and messages are greatly appreciated.)**_


	2. A Rabid Dog on a Leash

(_**A/N: This is a Game of Throne fanfiction that centers around Sandor Clegane so this should go without saying but I'll say it anyway. Foul language and graphic violence lay ahead in these following chapters. Enjoy.)**_

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The heat made the stench of the city almost unbearable. Riding through the winding streets of Kings Landing Isolts discomfort only worsened. She felt many eyes fall on her; though it was certainly possible they were looking at Tyrion as well. Even though he was a well known noble a dwarf was still a unique sight to behold. It wasn't every day you saw a young Lord Imp and two sell-swords, strutting through the capitol on horseback; especially when one of those sell-swords happened to be female. The stone made the labyrinth of streets feel like an oven. She took a sip from her wineskin before wiping the sweat from her brow in the crux of her elbow.

"They don't seem happy to see you." Isolt muttered her steely eyes surveying the sea of stern looks that lay before her. She tensed up slightly, taking a small dry gulp of torrid air in.

"I'm sure you're not helping any," Bronn said. "A dwarf is one offense, but an armed woman. Now that's something most men never see." Isolt glared over at him, trying her best to ignore the tense looks the people of Kings Landing continued to give them. "I told you to wear a bloody dress when we come to new places maybe try and draw fewer eyes, but you're to gods damned proud."

"Ah yes, a dress. There were so many places to purchase such things along the road. I can also imagine it would be _so_ useful if I had to fight. Tell me Bronn where exactly would I stow my weapons on this imaginary dress of yours?"

"You wouldn't." Isolt narrowed her eyes at him. Bronn and her had traveled together for longer than she cared to admit; his rude remarks were nothing new. Every time the pair entered a city or town and received more attention then he would've liked he always blamed it on her queer style of dress. To be fair, Isolt knew that it played a part, but she was sure his appearance did nothing to help matters either.

"Now, now there's no need to bicker. I assure you my sister would be just as displeased with you had you worn a dress. In fact, I'm quite positive she would hate any person I saw fit to bring with me. If Cersei had it her way I would've died at the Green Fork."

"Sounds like a real cunt." Isolt blurted out without thinking. Tyrion glanced over his shoulder at her, flashing her a smirk.

"Of that, there is no doubt, just be sure to keep that sentiment to yourself while you're here or it might earn you, your head on a spike. I rather like your head right where it is." Tyrion placed his gaze on the outer wall of the Red Keep that lay before him and the numerous heads that lay impaled for all to see. Isolt clenched her jaw at the grim sight and smell that lay before her. She had seen severed heads before and much worse, but something about the varying degree of decay paired with the sheer number of them unsettled her. That was not a way she wished to die.

Monitoring her words and actions was not something Isolt was accustomed to. In fact, as a sellsword she would have never gotten as far if Isolt used measured words like most ladies and nobles did. No, it was her blunt abrasiveness that had driven her success. Isolt was a born fighter she _lived _to fight. She pursed her lips while dismounting her speckled mare for Podrick to take to the stables. The guards at the gate stepped aside upon seeing Tyrions approach. It seemed they were quite familiar with the half man, which was not surprising given his relation to the Queen.

"Where exactly are we?' Isolt asked while entering the gate, the sickening scent of rotting flesh hit her nose as the passed the row of heads. She crinkled her face trying to suppress a gag.

"Wherever it is, it best be where you'll be paying us," Bronn said sternly seemingly unbothered by the sight that lined the outer wall. Tyrion waved a dismissive hand in their direction.

"Not that expect either of you to know this, but today is my shit of a nephews name day." Isolt quirked a brow before quickly glancing to make sure he hadn't been overheard. Though Tyrion had expressed distaste for the King before she hadn't expected him to be so bold as to utter it openly within the halls of his castle. Especially not after that small display of cruelty and power they saw at the gate. "Ahh you hear that? We aren't far off now." She heard the sound of clanging and chainmail crunching, as well as cheers from a crowd, followed up by an exclamation.

"Well struck dog!"

"Sounds like we are missing the festivities. Come I'm eager to see the look on my nephews face when I present him with his gift. Joffrey will be elated by the news that I survived as will my dear sister Cersei, of that I have no doubt." He remarked sarcastically. Isolt knew little of his family affairs but had seen how his father Tywin held him in such low esteem. It appeared much of his family held the same low opinion of the dwarf.

They followed Tyrion towards the canopied table where the King and his noble guest sat. Isolts eyes were immediately drawn to a beautiful young girl who greatly resembled Catlyn Stark, sitting beside the King. She had no doubt it was her daughter, Tully was written all over that poor girl.

As Isolt made her way closer towards the covered seats which housed the nobles she peered over the ledge into the courtyard that lie beneath them. A frown tugged at her lips at the sight of a man who was sprawled out, partially crushed and bleeding on the stone below. As his life's blood spilled from his body this much was clear; it seemed he was not victorious. Though she had no indication of who the pitiable bastard actually was she felt bad for him, it seemed a poor way to die.

"We looked for you on the battlefield." Tyrion started as he strolled up beside the King. Isolt went to continue alongside the man who had hired with a small grin. She was uncomfortable but determined to not let it show. Her fear worsened when a massive man grasped her shoulder tightly in his armored hand, holding her in place. Isolt glowered up at him as Bronn stepped close behind her. She felt her cousins eyes on her but refused to break the unnamed mans gaze. Tyrion continued to greet his other niece and nephew while the pair frowned at each other in silence.

Bronn cleared his throat in a futile attempt to draw Isolts scowl away from the much larger stranger. Isolt was by no means a small woman, but her stature paled in comparison to his. Of course, she knew she should keep her head down anyone with half a brain would know that. Isolt ripped her shoulder from the strangers' grasp not breaking focus with him for a second. His lips twisted into a sour smirk while placing his hand near the hilt of his blade.

Isolts grey hues remained confidently locked on him despite his threatening posture. A much-needed breeze cut through the heat of the courtyard blowing some thin dark hair that had been obstructing half of his face. Isolts brows arched as she saw the right half was badly scared. She frowned slightly at the sudden realization of who this man was. His size, the scar, that nasty expression on his face; this man was the Hound. He was commonly regarded as one of the most fearsome warriors in all of the Seven Kingdoms and she had clearly annoyed him to some degree.

The left side of his face was broad and pale with a hollow cheek; his nose was large and hooked. The right side of his face was disfigured with scars he had undoubtedly acquired from burns. Though his injuries and demeanor aged him Isolt sensed her wasn't much older than herself. As much as it shamed her to admit the sight of him unsettled her. It wasn't as much his size or deformity but the way his darkened gray hues glowered at her. They cut through her worse then any blade could.

"This one doesn't like me," Tyrion said, referring to Joffrey. Isolt forced a smile across her face, using his comment as an excuse to turn her focus towards him. She was desperate to take her mind off of the fact one of the most feared men in all of Westeros was standing mere feet from her with a less than hospitable look written across his face. She forced herself not to look, but Isolt felt his eyes continuing to burn a hole through her.

"Can't imagine why," Bronn remarked sarcastically. Though she was still unsettled by the Hounds close proximity to her, Isolt managed a small laugh. This earned her a small snarl from the massive man. Despite her better judgment, Isolt smirked up at him in response. He unsettled her, yes, but _he_ didn't need to know that. His eyes narrowed, it seemed her response was unexpected and unwelcome. The two continued to glare at each other silently while Tyrion spoke to the others at the table.

"You're quite smug." He snapped at her breaking their silence, Isolt placed a hand on the hilt of a dagger, trying her best to appear calm. She certainly didn't want to fight him, but she also refused to allow him to disrespect her, "Or maybe you're just very fucking stupid." He spat, wrapping his fingers around the hilt of the long sword that hung from his hip.

"Size and brute force may help you in battle _dog_, but speed and accuracy tend to be my preferred style," Isolt stated calmly, sure to maintain that smug look that seemed to infuriate him. Logic told her to shut up, but pride pushed her further "I'd be glad to give you a demonstration sometime if you'd like to learn how a skilled fighter works."

"Ohh seven hells woman…" She heard Bronn mutter under his breath. "Will you shut the fuck up before the man cleaves you in half?" Isolt ignored him keeping her focus solely on the Hound.

"Listen to the man, _girl_." He growled, keeping his hand clasped around the hilt of his blade.

Isolt placed both hands on her daggers grinning slightly, though a duel against one of the most feared men in Westeros wasn't _ideal _it seemed she had little choice in the matter. Half wild, ill-tempered and loyal only to his masters and his own whims, this was not a man who could be reasoned with.

"Isolt is not just amusing Clegane," Tyrion interjected while stepping between the two in an obvious attempt to diffuse the situation. "She's also greatly skilled in combat. I saw her shoot a man in the center of the head from at least 100 yards away." Isolt knew he was greatly embellishing that distance, but the Hound didn't need to know that. "She also managed to slit the throats of at least 50 Stark soldiers during the battle of Green Fork." Another gross exaggeration, Isolt puffed up her chest slightly proud of her asserted actions. "I know it's not common to see, but this woman is a better fighter than most men I know. If not for her and Bronn I have no doubt that I would be dead right now. I owe them both my life." The Hound seemed unimpressed by Tyrions ambitious claims about her. She wondered if he figured it was too grand to be true, he wouldn't be completely wrong in that assessment.

"Well then, it seems she is truly an asset to us all. Come closer I would like to look upon you." A womans' smooth voice called from the canopy. Isolt glanced down at Tyrion unsure of what to make of her request. He merely shifted his glance between Isolt and the strikingly beautiful blonde woman dressed in a fine dress that was a lavish Lannister red. Though there wasn't much of a family resemblance, the woman who beckoned her was undoubtedly Cersei Lannister. Isolt stood before King Joffrey his mother, offering them a small and clumsy bow of the head. Cersei laughed, causing the color to rush to her cheeks "Well I suppose you're one of the common folk. I expected as much. Come closer I'd like to have a look at your face" She smirked down at her caustically. Isolt held her tongue, this was not the time to lash out nor a person she had any standing to lash out against. "I shall be sure you learn a proper curtsy during your time at the capitol, it's not hard I've been doing it since I was a child. Such a shame… I'm sure you would have been quite acceptable to look at had you not gotten your face butchered." The more Cersei spoke the more Isolt imagined punching her right in one of those brilliant emerald eyes of hers. She narrowed her eyes towards the Queen, she was answered with a smug grin. " We will have to make sure we treat…her and your other guest… with the upmost respect and honor." Though the words were decent enough, Isolt knew they were tinged with venom. It was unsure what the Queens intentions were, but Isolt was sure she wasn't welcoming her as an honored guest.

"I've never seen such a ridiculous thing in my life. A woman fighter? My Hound would have your head in a second flat." Isolt felt her rage flare, but continued to smile pleasantly. She wasn't the smartest person around, but she was also no fool. This asshole was the King, the only thing speaking out against him would get her was her head on a spike. "You have no place on the battlefield."

"And yet there she stood along side me and thousands of _your_ men fighting at the battle of Green Fork when you as I recall were no where to be found." Tyrion replied snidely. Joffreys face went red as he began to stutter insults at his uncle. Isolt took this opportunity to leave the platform and return to Bronn, subconsciously running her fingers a long the faint scar that ran across the bridge of her nose into part of her left cheek.

Before things escalated any further Tyrion, Bronn and Isolt took their leave. Isolt dared one more glower at the Hound as they left. It seemed he was doing the same; there was a tense moment of their eyes locking once more before she stepped from view. They walked in silence towards the Tower of the Hand, where Tyrion would be staying. Once they entered his chambers Tyrion sent the servants away for some wine.

"Good thinking, I'm rather thirsty myself, this place is hotter then the Seventh Hell." Isolt said with a grin as she sat herself on a cushioned seat covered in embroidered pillows. Both Bronn and Tyrion glared over at her sternly, "What's with that look?"

"I know you're new around here and I apologize if I assumed any prior knowledge on your part." Tyrion began, pressing the temples of his head with his fingers. "The hulking brute of a man with the half burned face and permanent scowl, the one you kept scowling at like a petulant child, that man is Sandor Clegane, I expect you'd know him better as the Hound. I know you and Bronn have been on the road for a while, but I assume you've heard that name before."

"Of course we have. We don't live under a bloody rock." She snapped.

"Well, I also assumed as much. So now that we've established you're familiar with the name have you also heard that he is a man with little kindness or patience."

"Yes, that's what they say ain't it? That and the fact he's an unstoppable brute on the battlefield." The more Isolt thought on the rumors of the Hound the more she wondered if she should've just kept her nose down. "Not surprising given the size of him."

"Right," Tyrion said with a sigh, clasping his face in his hands for a moment. "So you _were_ able to see the size of him. I wonder did you notice his weapon or perhaps that look across his face that makes it seem as though he will scoop you up and gobble you down for supper in a moment."

"Sure the fucker was big but_"

"Isy shut your bloody gob for once." Bronn groaned, "This is the thing I hate the most about you, you find the biggest meanest looking fucker in the room and try and pick a fight with them."

"I'm not saying that I do or don't, but in all the people I've challenged have I lost?" Bronn gave her a stern look "Alright I suppose there was there have been a few_"

"That's not the bloody point, that man is different breed then anything you've dealt with before. Couldn't you see there's nothing but hatred in those dark eyes of his? I'm surprised he didn't take a chunk out of your neck. The mans true to his nickname, nothing more then a vicious dog."

"You're the one who told me size isn't any indication of skill. Dogs have never frightened me before, why should they now? If I'm to stay here I need to let these men know I'm more then a commodity. I'm someone with as much skill and worth as the next man."

"You have more worth and skill then the average man there is no arguing that, but maybe try to prove it in an other way besides picking an unnecessary fight with the Hound." Tyrion pleaded.

Isolt pursed her lips, she wasn't willing to give him any sort of promise on the matter. It depended on Cleganes actions, Isolt would not actively seek a fight with him, but she also wouldn't allow him to speak down to her in any regard. How could she be blamed for defending her pride?

"Now that we've aired that issue, lets get down to your payments."

Usually, Isolt was all for getting paid, but her thoughts kept going back to the snarled brute of a man. The more she thought of him the deeper the pit in her stomach grew. A small pout spread across her face.

"A toast to new endeavors." Tyrion said abruptly pulling Isolt from her thoughts. She flashed a smile before the three clanged their cups, hoping they had not noticed her mind was elsewhere. "Is something wrong, I thought getting that much gold on a regular basis would be more exciting to you, Bronn over there seems beside himself with joy".

"You bet your rich fucking ass I am." Bronn said with a grin.

"I'm getting more?"

"For fuck sake did you not just hear the man? He's hired us, we both said yes. Well you more sort of just nodded, I just thought you were in shock."

"O-Of course I am!" She stuttered hoping it would cover the fact that she hadn't listened to them at all.

"You're a horrible liar… Don't tell me you're still thinking about that ugly fucker. The way you're obsessing about the man I'm starting to think you want to fuck him not fight him." Bronn replied, Isolt opened her mouth to object, but Tyrion cut her off first.

"As interesting topic as this is I'm afraid I have work to do. You will be called upon when I have need of you. Until then, Lyra." Tyrion called, a small mousy girl entered the room it was clear she was a servant. "Show Bronn and Isolt to their rooms. See that they're given anything they desire."

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_**( A/N: See, I didn't make you wait long at all until he made an appearance. Hope you're all enjoying so far, I will probably post the next chapter within the next few days after I properly revise it.)**_


	3. Messy Business

_**(A/N: I've marked off the particularly nasty bits in the chapter so feel free to skip over the sections marked with XXXX if you wish to avoid it. )**_

"It's bullshit, absolute bullshit!"

"Quit your bitching already," Bronn grunted, however, Isolt would not relent. She blocked Bronns path, roughly shoving a fist into his chain mail covered chest. He narrowed his eyes, a small crinkle in his nose appearing as he glowered down at her.

"No, you will stand there and listen to me 'bitch'. _You're_ the one who makes out well here while I'm stuck shoveling up the Lannisters shit. It's obvious the Imp favors you_"

"Gee I wonder why?" Bronn mockingly remarked while smacking her hand away from him.

"It's _bullshit_." She continued completely ignoring his sarcastic comment and shove, "Why Tyrion would even think to send_ me _out with a group of _Lannister_ men, who I've never even met, by the way, is completely beyond me. I don't even know why I'm supposed to be doing this. I thought he was supposed to be bloody smart."

"See, Isy when you say stuff like that is when I start to think you're actually much stupider than I already thought you were. Who gives a fuck if you don't know why you're doing something. You aren't being paid to know why. Just get it done." Bronn sighed, giving her a condescending flick to the forehead. Isolt huffed up at him, he often insulted her intelligence and it always infuriated her.

Of course, he would think that she was being dumb, he wasn't the one going into a situation nearly blind. All she knew was they were supposed to go question some men. She hadn't been told what the line of questioning was, or much detail on the men themselves. Not being clear on her objective was infuriating enough, and then there was the matter of the others she would be completing this task with. There would be three other men in total, two of which Tyrion said would be wearing Lannisters colors the third man he failed to describe any further. Since arriving in Kings Landing the Lannister men had been generally unpleasant towards her, she couldn't imagine these men would be to keen on her presence.

"I think _you're_ stupid, and _he_ is too." She muttered bitterly, her hands clenching into fists. "You'll be in an out with no hassle, no problems. I on the other hand, am going to have to deal with these morons heckling me for hours." Of all the many things she hated, being underestimated had to be at the top of the list.

"If you stop and use your head for once you might realize this isn't a punishment. You act as though you've never worked with an unfamiliar man a day in your life. Don't you claim to be a bloody sellsword?" Bronn mockingly tapped his head twice.

"I don't _claim_ anything, I _am_ one. I sell my sword for money that's what _we_ do." Isolt gave Bronn a quick look a slight pucker forming on her forehead. In the short time, they had been in Kings Landing Bronn had already adopted a finer style of living and dress. "Or what we _used _to do…" She clenched her jaw glaring up at her cousin; she knew this place would change him. She just hadn't expected it would happen so quickly. Bronns face dropped at her snide comment towards him. Before she could react he roughly jabbed the center of her chest with two fingers.

"So shut your fucking gob and start doing it." Isolt slapped his hand from her chest and opened her mouth to object, but Bronn was already walking away. "Or I'll find someone who can." He shouted over his shoulder. For a brief moment she thought of chasing after him, but merely clenched her jaw once more after realizing it would do little to ease her humiliation.

With a scowl, Isolt made her way down from the tower in which Tyrions room sat. She paid no attention to the people she passed, whether they were servants or nobles made no difference to her. The whole situation had put her in a sour mood, she hoped whomever they needed to find was readily available and prepared to talk. It wasn't long before she reached the courtyard near the soldiers' barracks where Tyrion had instructed her to go. Isolt squinted her eyes trying to make out the three men who stood on the far side. Her heart skipped a beat upon making out the massive figure of a man who could only have been the Hound. She shut her eyes, pushing a sharp breath out before pressing further into the courtyard.

Clegane hadn't spoken with her since the small and unpleasant interaction they had shared on King Joffreys name day. She was much too proud to admit it, but Isolt had come to regret speaking to him that way. Bronn was right, she always had a knack to picking a fight with the biggest meanest fucker in the room and this was one she wasn't sure she could best. She _was_ a sellsword and she didn't _need_ these men to like her. She just needed to keep her nose down and get the job done. The only thing that mattered was results.

"About fucking time." The Hound said roughly. Isolt crossed her arms over her chest, sizing the much larger man up. She had come here with the intent of keeping her nose clean in regards to him, but it seemed her impulsivity was getting the best of her already "Can we get you some bloody iced milk? Or are you finally done wasting our time?" He mocked his, lips twisting into a frown, as he looked her over. Isolt glowered up at him her brow creasing slightly.

"Watch the way you speak to me. I'd rather not have to silence you by force." Isolt leered. The Hound stepped forward fists clenched, teeth bared as he continued to glare down at her. She was nervous, anyone would be, but she wouldn't allow _him_ or his men to know that. "What? Are you waiting for me to shrink back in fear over _this?" _She said gesturing towards him. Clegane slapped her arm away from him with a crack. She brought her arm to her chest, suddenly regretting her words and tone.

"Don't fucking point at me _girl_." He barked.

Despite herself, Isolt let out a small gasp from the impact causing the two Lannister men to erupt into a fit of laughter. Isolt shot them an icy glare. Both were unfamiliar to her, which was unsurprising considering she had only just arrived in Kings Landing. The smaller of the two looked about mid-twenties with blonde hair and a smug grin across his face. The other was a large man, though still much smaller than Clegane. A large unkempt beard mostly covered his features; he appeared to be significantly older than the rest of the group.

"If you have half a brain you'd best step aside and do as you're told. You must have a death wish to speak to the Hound like that,_" _The smaller man accused, "I've seen him cut through men twice your size without even batting an eye."

"I don't let any man speak to me that way, I don't care how big," Isolt said leering towards Clegane once more. He held her gaze for a brief moment. "He isn't the largest man in Westeros, I believe that title belongs to his elder brother the Mountain. Now that's a big nasty fucker, I had the honor of fighting alongside Ser Gregor at the battle of Green_"

"Enough," The Hound sneered, breaking eye contact with her. It seemed the mention of his elder brother had set him on edge. "All of you just shut the fuck up already. Ignore the stupid twat and let's be on with it." He growled. Both Isolt and the young man immediately fell silent. Isolt resisted her urge to argue, trying to remember Tyrion and Bronns' warning to not get on his bad side any more than she already had. Silently Isolt followed as the Hound made his way through the capitol with her and the Lannister soldiers in tow.

It was well into the evening; Isolt tried her best to make out some of the shops and buildings around them, but it wasn't long until she was completely unfamiliar with their location. It was hard not to feel overwhelmed by the stench or filth that filled the city streets. It only made the maze of side paths more difficult to navigate. Isolt glanced up to the Hounds back and the soiled white cloak the hung from his hulking shoulders. She wasn't shocked to see the two unfamiliar men were from the Lannisters. Whatever matter they had been sent to deal with it likely to pertained to Lannister affairs. The Hounds' presence was quite unexpected. He was Kingsguard after all. It was his sworn duty to protect the _King _not to deal with petty matters such as this.

In the short time Isolt had been in Kings Landing it seemed uncommon for the King to be without his loyal lap dog. On top of that, it seemed this sort of job would not be suited to his tastes. He struck her as a man who sliced through his problems, not one capable of restraint. Though to be fair, Isolt found herself struggling with restraint from time to time as well.

"I say we leave the girl outside, she'll cause more problems than anything. We should be able to get the information we need from them by just talking. The only thing walking in with her will do is cause us to get laughed out of the place. I'd rather not have to dirty my blade over such nonsense." The bearded man said.

"I agree, it's already late no point in dragging this out longer than it has to be." The younger soldier agreed.

"Ah, so this is nonsense, is it? I'll be sure I let Joffrey know you feel that way." The two men exchanged a tense glance while Clegane paused to take a swig from his wineskin. "Not surprised you'd rather take the easy path you bunch of nance's." Her brow arched slightly as she silently watched the interaction between the Hound and these two unnamed men. The Hound was large, there was no denying that, but for these men to let him speak to them the way he did they were either complete cowards or Sandor Clegane was truly as fearsome as they claimed. "As for the girl," Isolt jumped slightly startled by his sudden shift of focus towards her. He grimaced down towards her for a moment, Isolt merely grinned in response. "She'll go in first. After all, she's so bloody eager to run around playing with knives. Maybe it'll wipe that stupid look from her face for good." Cleganes lips curved into a smug grin before the other men snickered once more. For a moment Isolt thought it better to hold her tongue. The less she said, the quicker this could be over with. She wanted to avoid any further conflict with this man. She knew to pick a fight with him was unwise, "Unless you're frightened, then maybe you'd best wait here like a good little bitch." He spat. Isolts nostrils flared for a moment. She placed her hands on her hips, puffing out her chest while meeting his gaze. It was stupid to continue, but her pride refused to let her stay silent.

"Theres nothing in this city that could frighten me." She lied, "Not even a rabid _dog_." Her smirk widened at her own remark as pure rage consumed the Hounds features once more. "If you and your men are scared of getting hurt I'll gladly let you all hide behind me." Isolt said casually. He snarled down at her before giving her a firm shove behind him. "I guess sending the ugliest fucker in first could work as well. Your face might just be enough to scare them all into talking. That certainly would make things simpler for us, don't you agree?" Sandor turned over his shoulder glaring at her once more, nostrils flared. Isolt continued to wear a wry smile, taking small pleasure in the fact that she had clearly struck a nerve. Tyrion would warn her to tread carefully, a sentiment her arrogance would not allow her to heed. "I never would've pegged you as a vain man Clegane. That must be rather unfortunate for you considering, well you know." She gestured towards the burns that marred the right side of his face an action Isolt would immediately regret.

She still had a reckless grin spread across her face even as the Hound grasped the left side of her head in his hand and shoved her towards the closest wall. Her ears rang from the impact. The pounding of her racing heart filled her head as he held it tightly in place. Despite her current situation, Isolt was slightly impressed that the entirety of her head fit inside his imposing grasp. Mostly she felt absolutely horrified by this, but she still managed to grimace at him from the corner of her eye. Cleganes face contorted slightly as he strengthened his grip around the side of her head.

"One more fucking word comes pouring from that cunt mouth of yours and I'll bash your head against this wall until it's jelly." The Hound snarled as he glowered at her coldly. Isolt said nothing, merely maintained eye contact with him. She refused to be the first one to have their gaze falter. "Wipe the smirk off your face while you're at it before I crack your teeth in." His last threat struck a nerve, especially since he continued pressing her head against the wall. Isolts brow furrowed despite her best efforts a distressed look crossed her face.

The stare down between the pair seemed to last for ages, Isolt was only thankful it was night-time in Kings Landings and not many people were around to witness her shame. She remained still her hands clenched into fists so tight her knuckles were white as snow. Though she was humiliated Isolt knew retaliating any further would only end poorly for her. The Hound released her face from his grasp and began to walk away without another word. Isolt paused for a moment and glanced over at the two Lannister men, blinking back tears as she did so. Even they weren't smiling anymore.

No one dared to speak after the Hounds small display of rage and brute strength. Isolt managed to hold back her frustration as they all silently followed close behind him. He stopped, briskly raising his hand to stop them all when they reached the front door of a particularly well-constructed building. Isolts' cheeks tinted red as she heard the sounds of moans coming from inside the building. It seemed they had reached where their targets were rumored to frequent. She glanced up toward Clegane, briefly wondering if he frequented such establishments himself. He glared down at Isolt for a moment as though sensing what was on her mind.

"Shut the fuck up and stay the fuck out of my way." He grunted to them all before slamming the doors open. Several women who were sitting in the main entrance screamed, obviously shocked by there less than polite entrance.

"You can't barge in_" One of them started, the Hound glowered over at her. His look alone was enough to send her back to her seat, her eyes looking anywhere but him.

"Shut up you dumb bitch." He barked as they continued through the brothel. Clegane slammed several doors on the ground floor open causing more of a commotion than Isolt found necessary.

"Maybe they're not here…" One of the Lannister soldiers muttered a suggestion that seemed to enrage the Hound even further.

"Of course they're here, and if they weren't that would simply mean we'd get to stay out all night together looking for those dumb twats. Stop trying to shirk your duties you lazy fuck. Are you going to let this girl have more backbone than you? She ain't smart, but at least I don't hear her bitching about what needs to get done." He snapped. Isolt felt a strange sense of pride at the comparison, though she knew it was only meant to insult the Lannister soldiers into compliance. "Don't you go fucking smirking again." He snapped without even looking at her. Isolts mouth dropped slightly in an effort to respond "Shut it." He ordered, Isolt silently shut her mouth knowing now wasn't the time for sarcastic remarks.

"I suppose we should check upstairs_"

"I don't suppose you know what you're doing, we will give you one more chance to leave_" A woman with red hair started before the younger Lannister man silenced her with a firm smack across the face. Isolt watched as she crumbled to the floor, a small trail of crimson flowing from the corner of her lip. The young soldier made another step towards the injured woman before Isolt firmly placed her hand against his chest, giving him a sharpened glare. The man halted as she knelt down to the whores level, offering her a small dirty rag from her pocket. The woman accepted with a glare towards the young man who had struck her as she tried to stop the blood flowing from her mouth.

"I'm sorry the men I'm with are such brutes," Isolt began softly, casting a glare over her shoulder at the young soldier. "I'm sure you would've helped willingly had we just asked instead of storming in like animals." Isolt continued in a soothing tone, she shot a glance up towards Clegane. He glared at her in silence but made no apparent objection. It seemed he would allow her to continue speaking to the injured whore. "You aren't in trouble, but there are three men who will be if they don't tell us the information we need."

"Fucking get on with it already." The Hound said gruffly, seemingly growing impatient with her questioning. Isolt glared at him before softening her gaze towards the woman. She held her cheek, keeping her stare fixed on the ground before her. It was becoming difficult to continue pretending she had all the details pertaining to this venture.

"The-they're on the third floor in the large room… I assure you whatever_"

"Let's go." Clegane interrupted while yanking Isolt to her feet. She followed close behind him a scowl etched across her face while placing her hands on the hilt of her daggers. Isolt exchanged a stern look with the Hound and the two other men as they stood outside a large double door. Inside was the sound of multiple men and woman moaning as well as the sounds of pained cries following what sounded like the thud of a fist meeting flesh. They all drew their weapons while Sandor opened the doors with one swift and imposing kick. Isolt stood slack-jawed for a moment as the Hound bolted inside the room. The sound of screaming shook Isolt from her daze before she entered the room immediately after him.

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The room was nicer then expected for a brothel, though judging from the pile of silk tunics and trousers that lined the floor it seemed this place was tailored for more wealthy and influential clientele then the places Bronn had frequented during their travels. Isolt surveyed the room seeing three middle-aged men; fat, pale and pathetic in their nakedness. Her face scrunched up as she saw the one on the far left of the room was in the midst of beating the poor girl he was fucking. The young girl lay on her back, red marks marring her flesh, her face swollen and bloody, the imprint of large fat hands could be seen in the aggravated skin surrounding her neck. Isolt glared at him coldly as he jerked his weight from her allowing her time to crawl from him on the floor.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing!" One exclaimed from his position on the bed. The two women who were pleasuring him managed to jump from the bed only moments before the Hound arrived. Before the man could move Clegane promptly drew a dagger from his belt. He grasped the mans head firmly in his left hand while pressing the dagger against his fat neck hard enough to draw blood. The man on the bed cried out in pain. As the prostitutes tried to leave the room the younger of the Lannister soldiers grabbed them, stopping both women in their tracks.

"Please," One of them begged. She was young, beautiful and appeared foreign. Her olive cheeks were covered in wet streaks from her tears. Isolt watched as the poor girl frantically seemed to search for a way out of this situation.

"Let them go." Isolt urged, "We've been given no orders in regards to the women. You've already hurt the one downstairs, there's no need to harm them any further."

Clegane glared back at Isolt. For a moment she expected him to yell at her once more, but instead, he focused his glower to the Lannister men.

"Let the whores go, we have no business with them _yet_." He barked. The soldiers stepped aside and allowed the two women to pass. The young foreign one gave Isolt a small nod before fleeing the room.

"We paid good money to be here _dog_. You can't just barge in here barking orders and expect_" Sandor pressed his knife deeper into the neck of the blathering noble eliciting a pained yelp.

"I'm glad to see you like talking so bloody much. I'm interested in the names and whereabouts of some bastards." The man started to babble in an attempt to dispute having any such knowledge. "If the next words out of you mouth aren't about Robert Baratheons bastards then I'm going to slit your throat ear to ear do you understand?" Isolt glanced towards the bed, her stomach dropping at the mention of the former Kings bastards. It was well known that Robert enjoyed many women and fathered a disturbing amount of bastard children because of this. She cast her gaze downward as a flood of reasons for seeking this knowledge filled her head, none of them good.

The room was silent as her gaze found where the beaten woman had once lain. To her relief, it appeared she had also managed to escape the room. Isolt had a feeling things were going to get messy in a moment if this man or the others didn't start talking. Her heart skipped a beat as she realized the man who was over there before had also vanished. Isolt scanned the room calmly as she could before spotting him crawling along the floor looking a completely wretched sight.

She swiftly made her way over to the man kicking him in the chest and onto his back. All eyes in the room fell on her as she loomed over him. He coughed violently, blood sputtering from his lips as he tried to catch his breath. She wouldn't give him the chance. Isolt knelt over him grabbing his manhood in one hand and placing the sharpened end of her dagger at the base of it with her other. The man screamed, tears of pain welling in his eyes as she grabbed his swollen member much too tightly and pressed the blade just enough to draw blood.

"If I cut off your dick and shove it down your throat what do you think would end killing you? Blood loss or suffocation?" Isolt let out a small chuckle glancing towards Clegane and the Lannister men, "I'd love to find out wouldn't you?" The Hounds eyebrows raised slightly, his mouth faintly dropping at her comment.

"AHHHH!" The man screamed as she drew the blade under his bollocks, gently but still firm enough to draw blood. "WE'RE SORRY!" He screamed, Isolt retracted her knife flashing him the now bloodied blade. His eyes shut, it seemed the sight made him uncomfortable. "I'll tell you everything I know…AHHH!" She brought the dagger to his manhood once more. "Show us mercy. We'll _all _talk. We know of many of his bastards. I can give you names… Places!" Isolt released his now purple member and wiped the blood from her blade on his chest.

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"Well then." She said while rising to her feet. "You best be cooperative when talking to my friends here. Make sure you're useful or you'll have me to contend with." Isolt glanced over at expectantly at Clegane. He broke eye contact before sheathing his own dagger and making his way back to the door.

"You fucking heard the woman." He grunted as they left the three men alone; naked and trembling in the stench of fresh urine that now filled the room. "You two take them back to the Keep." Isolt glanced over her shoulder at the two Lannister men, there faces nearly as pale as the man she had just terrorized. While leaving left the brothel Isolt caught an approving nod from the women, which she gladly returned. If the Hounds snarled face told her anything it was that he was not as impressed or happy with her actions. After all, he was in command of the mission and Isolt seemed to unintentionally steal that command. She continued in dense silent for what felt like ages. She watched as he continued forward almost as though he wasn't even aware of her presence.

"What no smart remark." Isolt prodded.

"Upset I'm not shitting myself like those nance's back there?" The Hound grumbled. Isolt narrowed her eyes up towards him, crossing her arms over her chest. "You sure did a lot of gabbing for someone I told to shut the fuck up."

"Are you _always_ such a stubborn ass?" Isolt sighed, smoothing her braided hair from her face "Most would say 'thank you for handling that situation so efficiently.' Stop acting so bloody miserable, those guys will tell you everything they know about Roberts bastards and if they don't'..." Isolt sighed before flashing him her dagger and a grin. For a brief, moment his brows furrowed, but he quickly replaced the slightly worried look with a warped grin.

"Is that little thing supposed to scare me? A toothpick for a little girl to play with?" He laughed. "Aye you're scary enough to puffed up bladders like that lot but to the rest of us you're nothing but a dumb twat playing at a game you have no business being in."

"It _should_ scare you considering I could slit your throat with this 'toothpick' before you even have a chance to blink. There plenty more men I scare the piss out of then those assholes in there. Any mans a coward with a blade to his bollocks, even you."

"You're just a foolish girl who likes to make threats she can't back up." He said flatly, Isolt smirked up at him. "The only reason I didn't bash your skull in before was to save myself some bitching from the Imp. Don't press your fucking luck, girl." Sandor said as he began to walk back towards the Keep Isolt following closely behind him. He was pissing her off, but he also knew the best way back to the keep.

"Funny, that's the same reason I didn't use my knife to gut you like a pig." He narrowed his eyes down towards her as she continued; "You _really_ think I didn't have a clear reach for my weapon? Sure you held my head, but my limbs were free to do as I pleased."

"I'm sure you believe that too." Isolts nostrils flared at his comment. It wasn't clear if he truly felt such contempt towards her or if he was merely trying to ruffle her feathers. If it was the latter, it was working.

"I could've bested _any_ man in that room, even if they were armed." Isolt huffed.

"Oh is that so? _Any_ man in there you claim? You're fucking arrogant too." He grunted harshly.

"I believe it's called pride when you have the skill to back it up," Isolt said lifting her chin to him.

"You must've felt so tough in there pressing a puny blade against a puny mans bollocks feeling him cower beneath you." He scoffed while widening his stance and glowering down at her. "Show me you can hold a real blade, like _this_," He said while tapping the long sword that hung at his hip. "Otherwise I'm unimpressed."

"Just because I don't carry a giant sword around everywhere I go doesn't mean I can't use one," Isolt stated brashly, her cheeks growing hot from irritation. "If you think I'm so bloody shite then why don't you prove that you're better then me? Unless you're afraid_"

"I'm not afraid you dumb bitch," He snarled, the veins in his neck beginning to show, "You're not worth my fucking effort. What fun is there in stomping out rats?" The Hound said sharply, Isolt grinned up at him despite his insulting comparison. "I've never met a woman so eager to die before."

"I'm not." She said, her smirk fading as her brow knit slightly from the accusation.

"Well if that's the case then shut up."

"You're a big mean fucker, but that doesn't mean you can tell me what to do." His is nostrils flared slightly at her impertinence as the pair continued to lock eyes.

"You're insufferable, has anyone ever told you that." He snarled as they passed through the castle gates without any interruption from the guards. "Arrogant, impulsive and stupid. You're a real fucking treat, it's a wonder you're still alive."

"Of course they have, doesn't mean I have to give a fuck. I'd say I'm still better company than you. Arrogant, foul-tempered and scared of a '_little girl'_." Isolt braced herself fully expecting him to try and strike her or hold her against a wall instead, she heard what seemed like a low throaty chuckle. Her jaw dropped slightly at his unexpected reaction. Isolt arched a brow at the Hounds clear smirk.

"Whatever, you say you crazy bitch." With that, the Hound turned from her to leave. She stood there in the hallway cheeks warm, arms crossed over her chest watching as he walked away.

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_**(A/N: Hope you all enjoyed this particularly long chapter. It seems tensions between Clegane and Isolt are still rather high. The again she did manage to get a chuckle that's a slight improvement. As always thank you for reading and I hope you're enjoying so far)**_


	4. Slings and Arrows

The days that followed her job with the Hound and the two Lannister soldiers were nothing short of a nightmare. Isolt had awoken the following afternoon only to be summoned to Tyrions' chamber in the Tower of the Hand. Once there he informed her of the massacre that the Gold Cloaks had ensued on all of Robert Baratheons bastards within Kings Landing. Children and babies slaughtered all because it was the King who has pumped them into their mothers' belly. She felt enraged and betrayed having played an unwitting part in this. She hadn't held the knife herself, but knowing she helped get even some of those bastards' names was enough to make her feel horrible. Tyrion insisted he had no clue that was the purpose for sending her to get the names. Part of her believed him; another part thought he must've been an idiot for not knowing. Though that would also make her an idiot since she also hadn't known. She spent the better part of the days that followed stewing in her room, trying her best to avoid all the annoyances that lay beyond her walls.

The room Tyrion had provided for her was small and not nearly as grand as the Hands, but more than she expected. A well-dressed canopied bed filled the center of the room, a small table with two chairs lay near the glass-paned window a fireplace sat near the foot of her bed she even had a few chests and dressers for storage. Having servants still felt odd, but it was just another thing she had to adjust to and it certainly was not the worst.

Each time she left her room the various soldiers that inhabited the nearby barracks and White Sword Tower continued to mock her. She could understand _why_ they said and acted the way they did, though it didn't mean she had to like or accept it. Most men saw she was a woman and immediately wrote her off as useless. The White Cloaks were, of course, no different than the Lannister men or City Watch in regards to their opinion of her. Isolt did her best to hold her tongue, as well as her weapons especially against the Kingsguard , but given recent events, it was becoming increasingly difficult. This wasn't a bar along the Kingsroad or a mercenary camp full of bastards and other shamed men, she couldn't just pick a fight with anyone who upset her. These men were important to the King. They were his trusted guards; she couldn't just cut out there tongue because they mocked her. Though her exchanges with Sandor Clegane hadn't been entirely pleasant she certainly didn't abhor the man. There was one man in the Kingsguard however that she found particularly vile; Ser Meryn Trant.

Meryn had a nasty habit of insulting her openly and often to a point that her pride made it difficult to ignore. Whenever he saw her Meryn was sure to say something snide about her job and presence at the Red Keep. He continued to insinuate that Tyrion had taken her as a lover and not a guard. Greater men then Meryn Trant had met her blade for less. Though Bronn or Tyrion had never explicitly instructed her not to, she knew it unwise for her to speak or act out against him. Trant was Kingsguard the same as Clegane, though she sensed the men couldn't possibly be more different. Clegane could be insulting and coarse, but some of the things Trant said to her were beyond vulgar; it was surprising the man was ever knighted.

For once she had a consistent job and pay to go along with it along with food, drink and a sturdy roof over her head. It seemed the only thing she had to give up was complete autonomy over her words and actions. It was still unclear whether this was something she was willing or able to do. She certainly knew that she wasn't willing to work for someone who slaughtered babies at their mothers' breast.

"Where do you think you're going with that look?" Isolt glanced over her shoulder, Bronn stood in the center of the hall blocking her path with arms crossed over his chest. "Don't run around looking like that or you're bound to find some trouble." His lips curved into a wolfish grin.

"Fuck off, I'm going to the training grounds," Bronn chuckled at her half-hearted jab. She narrowed her eyes at him as he stood his ground. They hadn't been there long but it seemed Bronn was already dressing in better clothes then she'D ever seen him in. It seemed she was the only one having a difficult time adjusting to this place. As she glared up at him she wondered if Tyrion had spoken true about not knowing about the bastard business. She wondered if _he _knew "I've got a lot on my mind since…" Her voice cracked. Isolt paused for a moment forcing the tears from her eyes; vulnerability was not something she showed often. Not even to him. "Did either of you _know_?"

"What about the bastard getting killed?" Isolt nodded, Bronn paused for a moment "Can't say that either of us did, in any case, what does it matter to you. You weren't ordered to carry out the deed, good thing too seems you'd be too soft for all that."

"Fuck you." She snapped, feeling stupid for asking him in the first place. "I knew you were callous but gods_"

"Saw you're dog friend wandering over there before," Bronn cut her off. The mention of the Hound made Isolt tense up for a moment, something that unfortunately didn't escape his notice. "Would that be why you want to make the trip to the training_" Isolt shoved her cousin at the absurd suggestion.

"I wouldn't have even known that if you hadn't told me, his presence there makes no difference to me one way or the other. I'm sure he'd say the same for me." Isolt stated bluntly, though she knew it was a lie. She wondered if Clegane had known why they were collecting those names. Was she the only fool in that room left in the dark? "Also I'll have you know the Hound hates me as much as I hate him." She added, reminding herself of his distaste for her as well as Bronn.

"Right, 'hate' so that's what we're calling it nowadays?" Isolt snarled at the suggestion.

"I don't know what nonsense you're on about_" Bronn locked eyes with her as he raised an eyebrow.

"Oh ho, I think you do. He don't look at you like he wants to eat you alive. No, that mans eyes show a different kind of hunger when they find you."

"I don't have to listen to this nonsense," Isolt said while turning her back to him, feeling heat come to her cheeks. Bronn was just messing with her, he always liked to ruffle her feathers and he always knew the best way to do it. With all that had been going on since she arrived _that _was the last thing on her mind. Especially not with Sandor Clegane. The last time she saw him she insulted him, which he responded by threatening to beat her head into a paste. That did not seem like something a man would say to a woman he wished to bed.

"Embarrassed are we? I don't blame you."

"I thought I told you to fuck off!" She said, not even bothering to deny any desire for a midnight romp with the Hound. The thought was too absurd to even validate it with a response.

"Can't say I'm too surprised, you've always had a thing for mean ugly fuckers." Isolt shot around to punch Bronn, he caught her hand with a laugh. Her cheeks flushed a deeper red before yanking her hand from his grasp. Bronn raised his arms in a mocking surrender; he always did like to make his little affronts towards her. Isolt narrowed her eyes at him before storming away.

As she approached the training ground Isolt heard the familiar sound of metal on metal accompanied by the grunts and snarls of men. Most women felt at home sewing their husbands torn trousers, Isolt, however, felt most at home on a battlefield. Though there was no real fighting happening this would have to do for now. She hadn't had much chance to explore the Red Keep or Kings Landing since arriving. This was her first time venturing to the training grounds. In the past, the men training had deterred her from entering, but after speaking with Bronn Isolt felt it best to blow off steam here. As she glanced around a few sparring men stop, some whispered to their partner then snigger others just glared. Isolt kept her gaze focused on a series of target boards while trying to walk casually towards them.

"Where exactly do you think you're going?" She cringed at the familiar voice and turned to face it. Of all the people Isolt would rather not talk to Ser Meryn Trant was at the top of that list. This was especially true in her current state of irritation. Talking to him was like talking to a brick wall.

"I'm simply utilizing the training grounds as any other guard would. I'm sure even _you've_ heard by now that Lord Tyrion Lannister has hired me as one of his personal guards." Isolt stated calmly while glaring up at him. Ser Meryn smirked breaking their gaze to give her body a slow look over. Isolt lips fell, his extended stare made her uncomfortable.

"Oh, of course, he has. I'm sure you '_guard_' him very well." Trant said with a mocking grin. "It seems a shame to have you running about dressed as a boy. I'm sure you don't look as unsightly when your armor on his floor. You should let _me_ unburden you. " Isolt swallowed back bile, disgusted by his comment. "The scars unfortunate, but I'm sure he's had worse." As he laughed to himself Isolt glanced past his shoulder and further into the yard. There were a little more than two dozen men in the training yard a mix of City Watch and Lannister men; two were the men she had went to the brothel with the other day. They had apparently noticed her as well since they had stopped sparring and begun to watch her interaction with the insufferable Kingsguard. "Now run along you might get hurt out here. This is no place for Ladies. It'd be a shame to add another mark on the face of yours." Meryn reached out to stroke her face; Isolt took a sharp step out of his reach.

"Don't you dare presume you can touch me you greasy little twat." Isolt retorted, invoking a few sniggers from the men that filled the courtyard. Meryns Trants face flashed red, the veins began budging from his neck.

She could almost hear Tyrion bitching at her now, but it didn't matter. Isolt would not allow this man to disrespect her any longer. Without a word, Isolt darted towards the shooting range her vision blurring with rage. Meryn crossed his arms over his chest, still chuckling to himself.

"Give me that you stupid little shit, you aren't even holding it right, I'll show you how it's bloody done," She snapped at a young teenaged boy dressed in Lannister colors, while snatching the bow from his hand. The boy glanced over towards Meryn with uncertainty. Trant gave him a small nod of approval. Isolt notched two arrows and sent them flying straight toward the center of the target. As she notched two more the yard fell silent. After she sent them through the initial arrows she heard some men cheer. Isolt smirked tossing the bow back to the now slack-jawed boy before returning her attention to Meryn Trant. Though it was foolish she half expected Trant to be impressed by what he had just seen. It seemed the other men in the courtyard were stunned why wouldn't he be?

"You're to bawdy for your own good girl." He spat; Isolt smirked trying her best to repress a laugh. Trants eyes grew beady as his face went red as a tomato "Your lucky I still find your face pleasant despite that mark," Trant reached out for Isolt once more, she slapped his hand away with a crack. His face darkened "That's not to say I'm opposed to adding more if only to help you learn your place." He said while reaching for the hilt of his sword, Isolts jaw tensed. He had always been abhorrent towards her, but his open threat wasn't one she expected. She had no doubt she could beat him, but killing Trant would only bring a slew of unwanted repercussions.

"A little old for you ain't she Meryn?" The Hound rasped as he stepped into the courtyard. Isolts brow arched as she turned to face him for a moment. She wondered what had prompted him to make such a vile claim against his fellow Kingsguard. Isolt pursed her lips at the disgusting by the embarrassing implication made towards Trant. She wondered, briefly, if it was true. Meryn sputtering and wide-eyed response told her everything she needed to know on _that_ matter. It was just another thing to add to the list of things that made him despicable. Isolt dared a glance at the Hound as he walked towards them a stern look etched across his face.

"Mind your tongue cur." Trant spat while pointing at him. Clegane stopped beside Isolt sneering down at Trant for a tense moment. Though the two were brothers in arms it was clear there was no camaraderie between them. Isolt found herself suppressing another snigger as Trant attempted to intimidate the much larger, much more threatening man. His dark beady eyes shot towards her.

"Keep pointing at me Trant and I'll break every fucking finger in your bloody hand." Meryn Trants face blanched, he quickly returned his arm to his side with a huff. Isolt burst out laughing, gaining the Trants' attention once more.

"You," Isolt returned her attention to Meryn, trying, in vain, not to laugh in his face. "You'd best watch yourself." Isolt raised an eyebrow at his uninspired threat. She glowered around once more causing the other men to quickly return to what they were doing before her arrival. Isolt shrugged bringing her attention towards Meryn once more.

"You best not threaten her Trant," The Hound warned taking a step between them, Isolt furrowed her brow tilting her head up at Clegane. She could only assume Clegane disliked Trant much more than herself.

"I'll come back when the stench isn't quite so bad," Isolt said before spitting at the ground near Trant. Ser Meryn snarled at her repulsive display. Isolt blustered out of the training grounds her cheeks red with frustration. Once out of view she leaned against a wall, shutting her eyes in an effort to compose herself. The clang of armored footsteps followed and drew her from her thoughts. Isolt cracked her eyes open, slightly stunned to see the Hound standing before her with a seemingly amused smirk.

"I've always said that any man whore with a sword could best that puffed up twat." Isolt blinked up at him tilting her head slightly to the side as he spoke. He raised a wineskin to his mouth and took a few deep gulps locking his cold gray hues on her. "I suppose I can add you to that list as well now, _girl_. Bows are a women's weapon and your not half bad I'll give you that." It wasn't much, but Isolt felt her chest swell with pride at the slightly backhanded compliment.

"Please, I could kill that asshole even if I were blindfolded and weaponless. I've seen children with more skill than that fool." Isolts found her jaw-dropping slightly when the Hound answered her with a deep throaty chuckle. He quickly shook the smile from his face before holding his half-full wine skin towards her. Isolt remained frozen, unsure of what to make of his gesture. They weren't on the best of terms, he hadn't even spoken to her since the brothel incident. Yet here he was seemingly getting her out of an unpleasant situation with Meryn Trant and now he was offering to share his wine.

"Well, don't just stand there like a bloody idiot. Are you thirsty or not?" Isolt narrowed her eyes for a moment before snatching the wineskin from him and raising it to her lips. He kept his eyes on her as Isolt drained the skin until there was nothing left. His lips pressed together slightly as she thrust the empty wineskin into his hands. "You owe me some wine, _girl_." Isolt shrugged wiping her mouth in the crux of her arm, not all to concerned with his tone.

"What can I say, talking to idiots like Trant makes me thirsty." She glanced up at him, catching his lips curve up into a brief smile.

"Aye, it does the same for me. Next time don't drink the whole thing." He said sternly, hooking his empty wineskin back on his belt. Isolt pressed her hands against the wall she stared up at him for a moment. "The fuck you staring at?"

"Tell me Clegane… Did you _know?_" She asked choosing to completely ignore his comment. His face hardened, it seemed he knew exactly what he was referring too. "I didn't." She confessed, shooting her gaze downward.

"I had an idea… Did you not?" Isolt shook her head keep her gaze fixed on the floor.

"I wasn't even told what I was supposed to ask... I just went along with what you had said to that asshole on the bed..." She admitted.

"I'm sure you've heard the rumors, you've met that cunt we call King. No surprise he'd want any chance of contention for the throne thwarted." Isolt was slightly shocked he had just called Joffrey a cunt while out in the open, but quickly shook it from her head.

"Did you actually… Do _it?" _

"I thought you were supposed to be brave and bold, does killing children frighten you so much?"

"Of course it doesn't frighten me. There's nothing brave about killing children." Isolt snapped, "Any monster with a blade can hack through something defenseless like that… I would never."

"Aren't you supposed to be some sort of mercenary? You saying you never killed a woman or child? That's fucking bullshit and you know it." Isolt pursed her lips, choosing not to answer him. Of course, she had killed women and children before, but she never liked it. It wasn't something she enjoyed doing or even thinking about, but it had happened. Though since her time in Essos children had become off limits to her. She might have been a sellsword but that didn't mean she had to be without morals. "That's what I fucking thought." Isolt glanced up at him for a moment, her bottom lips quivered slightly when thinking of the horrible thing they had helped orchestrate. Cleganes expression softened slightly as he placed his hand gently on her shoulder. "That messy bit of business was given to the City Watch to carry out. Janos Slynt doesn't care who he has to kill as long as he gets to keep that fancy title of his. Don't think on it any longer girl, they would've found those names with or without your help." Isolt took a shaky breath before giving him a small nod. He was right.

She wasn't sure why, but knowing he hadn't participated in the murder made her feel slightly relieved. Isolt forced a grin on her lips before placing her hand on top of his. She wanted desperately to talk about something else, anything else as long as it got Roberts dead bastards out of her head.

"I'm sorry for finishing your wine Clegane. I'll treat you to some one of these days to make it up to you. Maybe after a duel? Might ease your embarrassment after I best you." A smile flashed across the Hound face as he laughed at her once again. Isolt couldn't blame him, by this point she was confident he was beyond her skills. She could be a bit arrogant at times, but she wasn't a complete fool. It was strange since his usual stern expression curve into a smile, yet there he stood with a broad grin spread across his face again. Though he was clearly laughing at her, Isolt didn't feel nearly as annoyed as she usually would.

"Seven Hells girl. I thought I told you to stop asking me about that shit." He stated his smile fading slightly. Isolt held his gaze with a confident smirk. "Are you that eager for an early grave?"

" Call me girl one more time and I might think you are. I do have a name you know. Aren't you a knight, I thought you lot were supposed to_" He quickly pulled his hand from her shoulder, his expression darkening.

"I'm not a knight." He spat at the mention of 'knight'. Isolt blinked up at him, she didn't think it possible to be in the Kingsguard without first taking a knight's vows. "You're fucking arrogant, did you know that? Don't go around making threats you can't back up, one of these days it'll get you killed." He said, slamming his hand on the wall beside her head. Isolt smiled calmly up at him; though her heart was racing she was determined not to let her discomfort show.

"You say that as if you're not arrogant yourself Clegane." Isolt pushed herself off the wall and only inches away from him. She held his gaze a tense minute. Her face grew slightly warm at his close proximity. Bronn was right; it wasn't hate she saw in his eyes. She wasn't sure what it was, but certainly not hate. The sound of her rapidly pounding heart intensified nearly drowning out the soldiers training in the courtyard.

"Lady Isolt…" A nervous voice pulled her from her mutual glower. She glanced to the side and saw a very nervous Podrick. Her brows raised at him, "I'm sorry to interrupt." He cast a nervous glance towards the Hound, "Lord Tyrion has need of you… Immediately." Isolt glanced over towards where the Hound once stood but he had already begun walking away. "Right, Pod take me to that little Lord of ours." Isolt pressing her hand lightly against her uncomfortably warm cheek.

"Are you alright? You look a bit flushed." Podrick commented. Isolt glanced at him from the corner of her eye; "I won't say anything, but Tyrions not going to be happy with you if you're still picking a fight with the Hound."

"No, no it was nothing like that."

"Well, then what was it like?" Isolt paused for a moment before answering. She wasn't entirely sure what that was.

"We were just talking that's all, now let's just shut up and hurry to Tyrion. I'd rather not hear him bitch at me for taking so long to get to him." Podrick raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying what she said, but he didn't push it any further.

As they walked up the stairs in the Tower of the Hand Isolt found her mind kept wandering back to Clegane. The more she thought about it the odder the whole thing seemed. Why had he even said anything to Trant in the first place? Something about him seemed different; he wasn't as harsh as he usually was towards her. Whatever the reason dwelling on it wouldn't do her any good. Isolt managed to shake him from her thoughts as she and Podrick continued up the stairs in silence.


	5. Mounting Debt

It was late in the evening when Isolt found herself straying from castle walls in search of a good tavern. Her time in Kings Landing had been short but tense. Following the City Watches' massacre of Robert Baratheons bastards, Tyrion had forced Janos Slynt to join the Nights Watch and named Bronn as the new commander. It wasn't unexpected, but it was another plan Bronn and Tyrion had left her in the dark on. It felt as though there was a lot those two were keeping from her nowadays.

Tensions in the Keep had only become worse since word of Robb Starks victories had begun flooding in. The Stark girl was humiliated in front of the whole court in an attempt to punish her for her brothers 'crimes'. Crimes the poor girl had nothing to do with. It was disgusting to think the King would have the woman he was supposed to marry stripped and beaten in front of all those people. It also hadn't escaped her notice that Tyrion claimed Sandor Clegane was the first and only man to step forward offering his cloak to cover the Stark girls shame. Isolt found it telling that in a room full of knights _he _was the only one to step forward. It appeared he was more honorable and compassionate than he let on.

Bronn and Tyrion had told her the horrible tale over supper. She was resentful it was yet another thing she had been left out of but also thankful to not have been present for the debacle. Meryn Trant and her already had a tumultuous relationship, Isolt was unsure if she could've stayed her hand if she witnessed him beating that defenseless girl. After the weight of that conversation set it Isolt felt it best to find some company other than her cousin and Tyrion Lannister.

Things had been constantly changing since arriving in the capital, and most wasn't for the better. While Bronn was kept busy by his new command of the Gold Cloaks and Tyrions whims, Isolt found herself growing restless and resentful. It had been ages since Tyrion had given her any real work. It seemed he was beginning to see her as more of an errand girl than his trusted guard and friend as he initially claimed. Isolt never thought the day would come where she actually missed the way things used to be. Being on the road with Bronn was far from easy, but at least she didn't feel useless. It almost felt as though she were cooped up in a cage to grow soft and feeble, a sentiment Isolt would never be content with.

She took her time winding through the streets of Kings Landing taking in the sights and smells. It had been nearly two months since her arrival and thankfully the city was no longer a daunting maze. She felt comforted that not many people were out at this time of night. The darkened streets ensured that the few that passed didn't notice her unusual style of dress. Before wandering too far from the Keep she found a pleasant looking tavern to spend some coin in.

The room fell silent for a moment as she entered. Isolt kept her gaze fixed on the barkeep despite feeling the eyes of many soldiers falling on her. Of course, she knew whatever tavern she stumbled into would have a soldier or two, but she wasn't expecting quite this many Lannister men gathered in one place. Isolt pretended not to see them and made her way towards the bar. She placed down a gold piece while asking for a tankard of ale. Her fingertips drummed lazily across the bar top as she desperately searched for anything to look at other than the men who's eyes she could feel digging into her.

"Oy! Miss, over here!" A young soldier exclaimed Isolt turned her head casually being sure to keep her expression stoic. She managed to remain passive even as the familiar teenaged boy waved over at her warmly with one hand while holding a gold piece above his head with the other. "I'll get your first round." Isolt arched her brow. This was unexpected, but she was never one to turn down a free drink. She grabbed the ale that had already poured for her and made her way towards the crowded table. The boy grinned fixing his clear blue orbs on her. "This, gentlemen, is the woman who showed up Meryn the other day with her impressive archery skills. She even had the balls to him a greasy little twat to his face." Isolt felt her cheeks warm as she slid in between him and another man dressed in Lannister red. She offered him a small grin before raising her tankard in his direction. "He didn't show it to you so much, but your little display with the arrows had him seething."

"I'm sure it did. He's a pompous asshole. Lucky he's Kingsguard or else I might've shoved an arrow straight up his arse for the way he was talking to me, " Isolt said before taking a big gulp from her cup. She watched the teenaged boy laugh at her comment before realizing it was the one she had snatched the bow from. He was young, probably had only just reached his sixteenth name day.

"Oh you don't even know the half of it. I'm sure a woman who can shoot a bow like that has some tales to tell." Isolt smiled despite her best efforts to remain passive and apathetic.

"My names Tomn by the way, you probably don't remember me, but I'm the one you grabbed the bow from. Gods, I don't think I've ever seen anyone do something like that before. I can barely hit my mark with one arrow and you were just firing them off in pairs. I never saw someone move so fast in my life." Tomns jaw dropped slightly as he stared at her eyes wide as saucers. Isolt raised her mug to her lips once more to mask her smile.

"Well fuck me," Isolt looked down at the far end of the table and saw the middle-aged man from the brothel job. Her heart sunk for a moment, she had tried her best to avoid thinking about that whole debacle. "You're the same one who nearly cut that poor sods bollocks off at Littlefingers brothel aren't you? Isolt right?" She pressed her lips together before giving him a sharp nod. He raised a glass to her, Isolt blinked up at him not expecting a warm reception from him as well. "I got the next round, wouldn't want to get on your bad side now. Don't think I got to give you my name last time we met, it's Daevon." He said with a smile and a hearty chuckle. Isolt couldn't even be bothered to hold her stern expression any longer. She wasn't pleased with what came from them successfully gathering those names, but he had remembered her. Not only that he was acknowledging her competence to some extent. It wasn't much but it was still recognition and it felt amazing.

The night was something she needed, just some good fun with good men. No talk about Tyrion or Bronn or the Hound or whatever other nonsense she had been dealing with since arriving in the capital. The soldiers bought her a bottomless flow of ale, mead, and wine as they all exchanged tales. As the night rolled on Isolt knew she had at least gained the esteem of these men. If they could change their minds about her then why couldn't others? Of course, there were men who were giant twats and would forever remain giant twats such as Meryn Trant, but who really gives a fuck about the opinion of a giant twat anyway?

"Gods what I'd do for some bloody music," Tomn exclaimed before pounding his now empty tankard on the table. Isolt watched him as he lay his head down in his arms. "My mother used to tell me I had a beautiful singing voice when I was growing up. It wasn't until I sang for a Septon in Lannisport and got laughed out of the place that I found out my mother's a liar." Isolt laughed along with the others at his less than flattering tale. She pushed herself from her seat before less than swiftly standing up on the table. The soldiers seemed confused but helped her up best they could in their drunken state. She grinned down at Tomn and the others seemingly awestruck expressions.

"Someone get me another ale, I'm afraid I'll become cross if my throat goes dry from singing for you all." Isolt grinned as the tavern erupted into a string of cheers and laughter. Even that barkeep was smirking. As she glanced around it seemed even the men not sitting at her table were excited for her drunken performance, all except one man who sat alone near the tavern door. One glance at his hulking form was enough to tell her it was the Hound. His face was stern even as his eyes met hers. Isolt pursed her lips wondering if he had been there watching her from the corner the whole time. Why hadn't he approached her? She owed him some wine after all. Isolt gave him a small wave; perhaps he was simply waiting to be invited over. Though judging by the behavior he'd shown in the past it seemed unlikely that was the case.

He leered up from his tankard at her, Isolts expression quickly dropped. It was silly but knowing he was there and watching her with such a grim look about his face suddenly made Isolt feel slightly self-conscious. She brushed her calloused thumb across the bridge of her nose before shaking him from her thoughts and returning her attention to Tomn . She ruffled his straw-like hair with her free hand while he passed her a fresh mug of ale.

"Alright, alright boys now let me see…. Do we have any requests? Any of you say _Rains of Castemere_ and I'll chop off your balls."

"How about _Lusty Lad? _Do you know it?" Tomn said while perking up from the table. The tavern erupted into laughter as Isolt arched a brow down at him. It seemed they were all amused with his bawdy request. Tomns cheeks went bright red for a moment before he cast his gaze to the floor. "_The Bear and the Maiden Fair_ is a good song too..." He muttered.

Her eyes briefly fell on Clegane once more as he continued to glower at her from the corner. She furrowed her brow at him for a moment before he turned his head away from her, a tankard at his lips. Isolt blinked at him for a short moment before realizing the Lannister men were beginning to notice her staring over at the Hound.

"I know _Lusty Lad _and will probably have no qualms singing it after another round or two. So, _Bear and the Maiden Fair _to star then?" They raised their glasses with a cheer as Tomn began to hum the tune as accompaniment.

Isolt started singing sloppily it wasn't long until most of the men joined in and began to drunkenly sing along. They weren't the prettiest sounding bunch, but it was the first time in a long while that Isolt felt true joy. As the drinks continued to flow as freely as the music it wasn't long until she was much drunker then she cared to admit. Though there was some groaning when she went to get off the table the men were sure to catch her as she awkwardly hopped down. Isolt straightened herself out though it was difficult to remain that way with the room spinning as much as it was, she knew it was time to call it a night.

"Pretty sure the captain will have our head tomorrow for drinking so much tonight, but it was worth it. You want to head back with the rest of us?" Daevon asked as the Lannister soldiers began to file out. "It might be best for you to travel with company given your current state…" The stench of mead that clung to his bushy beard hit her nose as he leaned close to her ear, "I ain't seen the Hound take his eyes off you all night." Isolt froze for a moment before forcing a smile to her face.

"I'll be fine, Clegane doesn't frighten me." It wasn't entirely a lie either. He was certainly much bigger and stronger than her, but she felt confident that he would never actually hurt her. Not on purpose anyway. Daevon furrowed his brow at her response; she cut him off before he could say more. "I've enjoyed all your company tonight but would prefer to head back alone. Besides I still have some ale left. My father used to say it was a great sin to let good brown ale go to waste." He merely nodded, casting a short look at the Hound before leaving with the other men. Isolt sat and slowly sipped the last of her ale, though she had already had too much she was never one for wasting especially not ale. She glanced over at Clegane, he hadn't budged from his spot near the door. His expression was much graver then what you'd expect from a man who had been drinking as much as he had been. Isolt got to her feet, flagon in hand as she took a few steps closer to him. His brow rose as someone grasped her forearm tightly. Clegane remained seated even as she felt the unmistakable edge of a blade being pressed against her back.

"You're a difficult woman to find _Isy_." The voice sent shivers down her spine. Isolt didn't even need to look to see who it was. She knew that nasally voice anywhere she also knew perfectly well what this was about. Isolt finished her drink with a large swig before turning away from Clegane. She wondered if he had noticed, if he had it seemed likely that he wouldn't care.

"Well, I never was the type to stay in one place for too long you of all people should know that about me by now Gidon. Even before I agreed to the terms I had let you all know mine."

"Then I'm sure you remember what happens when our terms aren't met." He said quietly pressing the blade against her back harder. "Let's go for a little walk, don't make a scene. Would hate for this to get messier than it already is." Isolt sighed sharply. This wasn't a request, and Gidon was not someone you said no to. She pursed her lips and gave him a short nod before being lead from the tavern. As she reached the door she shot a wide-eyed glance at the Hound.

His grey bloodshot eyes locked with hers for a moment, his expression darkening as she passed. Isolt kept her gaze on him until she was lead into the street. As she fumbled through Kings Landing Isolt kept her gaze downward desperately trying to find a way to escape this without any bloodshed.

It wasn't long before Gidon directed her into a nearby alley. At this time of night, only the drunk and the crazy were around. They were far enough from the bar that there would likely be no interruptions.

"You sounded pretty as ever. It's a shame I'll never hear it again. You didn't even do my favorite." Isolt shut her eyes and without thinking began to sing the same song he had always asked for in a desperate attempt to buy some more time. She just needed more time to find a way from him without taking a dagger to the back.

"_The day they hanged Black Robin_

_The air was clear and still_"

"Stop." He commanded. She paused for a moment, taking a shaky breath in.

"_The day they hanged Black Robin_

_The autumn ground was chill_

_The small folk gathered in the square_

_The gallows there were set_

_The small folk gathered in the square_

_The women never wept_."

"Enough!" He snapped pushing her against the wall, ensuring she kept her back to him. Gidon s brought the blade to her throat. Isolt shut her eyes her body beginning to tremble slightly, it seemed now she had no other choice but to kill him.

"_The Gods above all knew his crimes_

_The Lord read off his list_

_The Gods above all knew his crimes_

_The mens hands balled into fists_." Her voice shook.

"I don't understand you Isy," He cracked, pressing the blade deeper into her neck. Isolt bit her lip determined not to cry out "Things never would have gotten this fair had you just met his terms."

"If you had heard his terms you would've fled too. He's lucky I didn't gut him like a fish." She said through clenched teeth. Whatever softness he held toward her vanished in an instant.

"I always said that mouth of your would be the thing that got you killed. Sad to see I was right… Doesn't matter now. He offered you a resolution years ago and you… You might as well have spit in his face. He's beyond disappointed with your actions Isy. I'm sure I'll be punished for giving you an easy death, but I feel I owe it to you. After all_" Isolt sensed his grip loosen, she took the moment and reached for her dagger quickly turning and driving it through his forehead in one swift moment. She let out a sharp gasp at the thick sound of a blade meeting flesh that rung in her ears. Isolt turned and saw Gidon bleeding on the ground a huge gash running from his neck to the upper part of his torso and her dagger sticking out from his head.

* * *

_**(A/N: Sorry to leave you all with a tiny cliff hanger, it won't be long until the next chapter is up. I originally had them combined as one but it was just massive so I decided it best to split them up. Thank you all so much for reading and for your favorites/ follows and reviews. Hope you all enjoy reading this as much do writing it.)**_


	6. A Womans Warmth

Isolts kept her back pressed against the wall breath caught in her throat blinking down at Gidons fresh corpse. She brushed her shaky fingers across her own neck, it was slick with blood whether it was his or her own was still uncertain. Isolt glanced up from where Gidon lay and saw the Hound towering above and let out a nervous laugh. She tried mouth to speak, but no words came all she could manage was to gawp up at him dumbly blinking.

"That dumb cunt didn't know when to shut the fuck up." He slurred, Isolt let out another nervous laugh at his statement. She straightened herself out while trying to regain composure, an impossible task in her current state of drunkenness. Isolts brows knit together slightly while she watched the Hound frown as he tried, in vain, to shake some of the blood from his blade. "Seemed like you knew each other quite well, _Isy_." Her heart dropped at the mention of the nickname Gidon called her only moments before. Isolt furrowed her brow, what else had he heard? She leaned further towards the wall behind her, a feeble attempt to steady herself. As she gaped at him the sour smell of wine and ale permeated hit her nose. His bloodshot eyes and slight sway told her Clegane was likely just as drunk as her.

"I-I don't know what to say." Isolt stuttered, quickly breaking eye contact to bend over and retrieve the dagger she had stuck in Gidons head. Her hands continued to shake violently as she futilely attempted to reclaim her blade. The blood on the hilt kept it slipping from her grasp. Isolt tightened her lips, fighting back tears as she tried in vain to pull it from his head. The Hound bent over, drawing it out in one tug before placing it into her trembling hand. "I-I don't…" Isolt muttered, taking a moment to shut his dark brown eyes before standing once more.

"Well that's a bloody first, usually you don't shut the fuck up," He said his words stringing together so much they were almost inaudible. Isolt took another staggering step towards the Hound as he drove the tip of his blade into the ground frowning down at her sternly. "Most would start with a bloody thank you then move onto what the fuck _that_ was all about." He said gesturing towards Gidons fresh corpse.

"Thank you," Isolt said meekly, keeping her gaze with him, determined not to look at Gidon any longer "I_" She began, pressing her lips together. This wasn't something she spoke about with anyone. Clegane had killed Gidon that was still no reason to tell him anything else. As far as she knew he had only heard the name he called her, there was no reason to further his knowledge on this matter. This was her mess to deal with. The less anyone else knew, the better. "I don't know." Clegane narrowed his eyes it was clear he didn't believe her.

Before he could say another word Isolt turned taking a sharp step away from the Hound, hoping to avoid any further questions from him. He promptly seized her wrist, pulling her towards him. She tried to tug herself from his grasp even after he had pressed her to the wall, pushing his forearm firmly across her chest. Isolt tried to fight it, but only for a moment. It seemed he either didn't notice or care. This certainly wasn't the first time he had overpowered her, but it felt different than the last time. Maybe it was because they were both drunk but she _knew_ he wasn't going to hurt her. Whatever his intent she didn't believe it was bad, she sensed restraint on his part. Isolt tilted her head slightly as he locked eyes with her. Though she was doing her best to hide the discomfort she still couldn't stop trembling.

"You're hurt." He said brushing his gauntleted fingers beneath the small slash in her neck. "That'll leave a nasty scar."

"I'm fine. It's just a scratch nothing I can't handle." Isolt grinned up at him. He frowned, shaking his head slightly at her response. "It's not my first scar and I'm certain it won't be my last."

"Don't try and hide behind that smile, I know fear when I see it." He said while continuing to brush his fingers along the fresh cut on her neck. Isolt winced slightly; he immediately brought his fingers back to rest on her shoulder. "Where there's one there's bound to be others." If Isolt didn't know him any better she may've thought he was concerned for her.

"He was just a sad little man with a knife, I suppose he didn't like my singing." Isolt teased hoping it would be enough to steer him from this subject and herself. He leaned towards her, his face only inches from her own.

"You're so tough aren't you, making jokes out of men who nearly killed you." His arm stiffened against her chest. "You got lucky, that 'sad little man' nearly killed you. From where I stand you have nothing to smirk about."

Of course, Isolt was hesitant to admit it, but he was right. Without his interference, things with Gidon may not have played out in her favor. Especially not since she had allowed herself to get so drunk. Her bottom lip quivered slightly. She swallowed, not wanting to show him or anyone this pathetic side of her. Isolt shut her eyes hoping it would be enough to keep herself from crying, waiting for him to either speak or let her free from his grasp.

"Don't say a bloody word," He sighed, Isolt peered up at him. His expression was softer than anything she had ever seen him wear. "Do yourself a favor and come with me back to the Keep before you get yourself killed songbird."

Isolt quirked her brow and looked up at the Hound unsure of what to make of his new, slightly less condescending name for her. Though he was undoubtedly drunk, his concern for her safety still seemed stridently out of place. It wasn't so long ago he was threatening to turn her head into jelly, a thought that sent a chill down her spine as he continued to hold her against the wall. Yes, he had stood beside her after she insulted Meryn Trant in the courtyard and had certainly kept her from an even more uncomfortable situation with the man, but she assumed that his own dislike for Trant fueled that assistance more than anything. All Isolt knew was that Clegane must have sensed her distress as she left that tavern and for whatever reason, he felt compelled to follow. As curious as she was it seemed wise not to question his intentions at least not while in her current position.

"You're going to have to let go of me, or I won't be going anywhere I'm afraid." The two locked eyes, a moment that filled her face with heat and ears with the pounding of her racing heart. He smirked; taking in her immobilized and clearly embarrassed form for another minute.

"You sure put up a shite struggle. Next time you ask me to fight you, just remember how easily I held you here. I could break you like a fucking twig if I wanted to. I should next time, might be the only thing that will keep you out of trouble." He said while releasing her from his grasp.

"Now whos the 'tough one'?" Isolt retorted while straightening out her bloodstained leather vest, "Making threats that both of us know you won't follow through on." It was a bold assumption, but one the booze made her fairly certain was true. He had a foul temper and was far from pleasant, but it appeared he had gone out of his way to help her twice now. If he had any intention of actually harming her he would've done it already. If he actually wanted her dead there would be no reason for him to go through all this trouble.

"Doesn't fucking matter what you think, we both know if I wanted to I could," Clegane grumbled, pulling his wineskin from his belt and taking a sip he paused for a moment before holding it in her direction. Isolt narrowed her eyes at him; he returned it to his belt with a shrug. He was right, but she would never let him hear her admit that.

"Well, are we going?" She said casting her gaze at the gradually lightening sky, "I don't think sunrise is too far off now. It'll look bad if we come strolling in together drunk as we are." The Hound seemed increasingly annoyed by her claims "I can just hear Bronn now." She muttered to herself.

"Speak for yourself I'm not drunk…" He lied, Isolt raised a brow to him. "What were you doing drinking all way out here anyway? I thought you were the Imps. Shouldn't you be back in your cage singing him your pretty little songs?" Clegane mocked. Isolt narrowed her eyes at him not liking what he was implying with that comment.

"Tyrion pays me to fight for him; nothing more, nothing less. As for why I'm out here well I suppose I could ask you the same question." Isolt wondered if had something to do with what had happened with Sansa Stark earlier that day. "You found my songs pretty did you Clegane?" She teased.

"You're just fucking impossible to talk to. You can never just answer something, can you? Always have to try and say something clever."

"You act as though _you're_ easy to talk with. You don't speak to people, you bark at them."

"I'm also not a woman, I don't need to be easy to talk to. All I need to be good at is killing you won't hear a single man woman or child in the Seven Kingdoms deny that fact."

"I hold myself to the same standard. I'm far better with a blade then I ever was with a needle, plenty can attest to that." Isolt asserted turning her head to face him as they continued to walk through Kings Landing.

"When women don't do what's expected of them they wind up dead. That's especially true here. You'll see that soon enough the way you run about trying to start a fight with anyone who so much as looks in your direction the wrong way. Meryn Trant is a complete and utter cunt, but you can't go saying that to his face."

"I can say whatever I want to him or anyone else."

"You really are a crazy bitch if you actually believe that shite." Isolt narrowed her eyes up at him.

"He was_"

"It doesn't fucking matter what he was doing or saying, you should've just walked away. He's a pompous twat, but he's also Kingsguard and you've bruised his ego."

"I don't give a fuck about his_"

"As for not knowing anything about the bleeding fucker back in the alleyway," He said, sharply cutting her off once more, "We both know that's absolute horseshite."

"It's not I have no idea_" He shook his head silencing her instantly.

"Save your breath, I've been dealing with much better liars then you my whole life. Whoever he was and whatever trouble you're in with him, it has you scared and that's a fucking fact." Isolt broke Cleganes gaze, she would never admit it, but he was right. "You're a different breed I'll give you that." Isolt grinned slightly at his comment half expecting something pleasant would follow, "What are you smirking about? It's not a compliment you damn fool. Some dumb fuck gave you a dagger and taught you how to aim a bow and now you think you're invincible. You're not. You're small, fragile and weak, songbird. You can only get lucky poking holes with that little toothpick of yours so many times before you get yourself killed."

"You speak as though men never have such baseless thoughts about themselves. You're all the same, you think just because you had a few extra years practice swinging around your dicks instead of a sword a woman could never be you're match, right?" Isolt ranted, "I've never claimed to be invincible. No one is. Valar morghulis." She said, locking eyes with the Hound.

"Surprised you know such fancy words, thought you were one of the common folk." He retorted his face slightly twisted in confusion. "The fuck it's supposed to mean?"

"All men must die."

"Well that's grim," The Hound said pulling his wineskin from his belt once more, "Appropriate for someone who chases after death the way you do I suppose." He pressed it to his lips taking a deep gulp. Clegane passed it towards Isolt again, seeming to forget she had already rejected his offer. She gently pushed it away from her towards his chest.

"I don't chase death, I chase life. Death will come to us all one day whether we like it or not. All I can do is accomplished as much as possible before the Stranger takes me into his cold grasp. I don't want to die a useless old woman thinking back on life and wonder 'what if'. I would much rather die young with a dagger in my hand and a sword to the chest. At least I'll die knowing I've done everything I felt was worth doing." Isolt stopped in the hallway and glanced back at the Hound. He was silent, it was hard to tell if he was contemplating her words or simply glowering at her.

"Can't say I disagree." He said breaking the silence. "I think that's the only smart thing I've ever heard you say songbird."

Before her stood this huge and heavily muscled man, Isolt watched him in mutual silence as she began to study his face once more. The left side was gaunt with a heavy brow, his nose large, hooked and well suited to his features. His hair was much darker than hers, much thinner as well, probably since no hair grew from the right side of his head. He had it parted so that hair would obscure some of his scar. As his face soured at the extended gaze a crazy thought crossed her head. It was probably her drunkenness speaking, but at the moment he didn't appear quite so ugly as he used to.

"I was wrong for what I said to you the other day." She slurred softly, Clegane made no indication that he knew or cared what she was talking about, but Isolt continued anyway. "Outside of the brothel before we went in when I insulted you… I'm saying I find you_"

"You're drunk." He breathed cutting her off. "Come on let's get you back to your cage before your Lord Imp misses you."

Isolt went to reach for the right side of his face in a moment of drunken impulsivity. He caught her hand in his nearly crushing it in his grasp. Clegane glared down at her his jaw clenched tightly.

"I'm not." She lied wincing slightly from his harsh grasp, the thought of Sansa Stark being humiliated in front of all the Lords and Ladies of court and the Hound being the only one to assist her crossed Isolts mind. "Why do you act so callous and cruel? We both know that you're neither of those things."

"What are you playing at?" He snapped while holding her away from himself with a stony glare. "If you're not drunk then stop acting like such a dumb cunt. You don't know me songbird, you don't know the things I've done the things I'm willing to do."

"What happened?" Isolt muttered indistinctly, ignoring his outburst entirely. He knit his brows, sliding his grasp from her hand to her wrist.

"That's none of your bloody business." He said sharply, still holding her right-hand overhead. "Enough with the questions."

"Let me." Isolt pleaded softly. Sandor stared down at her for a tense moment. In an instant, he firmly pushed her back pressing Isolt against the cool stone wall that lay behind her. Goosebumps covered her flesh as she watched him survey her for a moment. "This again? How many times are you planning to pin me_"

"You have horrible taste in songs," Clegane said cutting her off once more, Isolt quirked her brow at his unexpected remark. Of course, she knew the Hound was in the tavern with her, but he had shown no indication that he was at all interested in the songs she and the others had chosen to sing. "_ A Cask of Ale, Megget Was a Merry Maid, a Merry Maid Was She_?"

"That wasn't all I sang…" She countered, the Hound laughed in response, his warm breath hitting her face. Isolt shut her eyes for a moment slightly overwhelmed by the stench of booze on him.

"Oh right I forgot you also did _Her_ _Little Flower._" He said chuckling once more"What bloody girl in her right mind sings that rubbish to a room full of drunk men."

"I'm surprised you're not a fan of those types of songs considering your low regard for women. Beside one usually sings such things whilst in a tavern. I'm sure you've been out drinking before tonight, I don't see how this would come as a surprise for you."

"Don't get smart." He snapped as he released his clutch on her wrist only to grip her shoulders and hold her firmly against the wall. He gazed down at her with heavy lids, eyes glazed and with an expression, she couldn't quite place. "Are you a woman or aren't you? Those aren't the types of songs I'd like to hear from you." Isolt felt her cheeks warm under his watch.

"What would you have me sing for you Clegane? _The Rains of Castamere_? That shites to depressing_" She froze as he moved his face and pressing it to her hair taking a brief inhale. Isolt glanced up at him from under her lashes her lips parting slightly as he pulled away.

"You smell like a woman." Clegane released her from his grasp giving her body a brief look over. "You've the soft body of a woman buried underneath those rough leathers of yours. You can try to hide it all you want, but it's plain as day for any man to see." Isolt stayed with her back against the wall blinking up at him as he as traced a finger along the scar that crossed the bridge of her nose. "You have a storm in your eyes girl, but it's not enough to hide that womanly warmth of yours." He stared down at her his brow creasing slightly as while he softly brushed his armored fingers across her cheek. She gawked up at him silently; it was tender, much more tender then she thought him capable of. For a moment, one _brief_ moment, Isolt wondered what might happen if she closed the gap between them. She turned her gaze downward softly brushing his fingers from her face, suddenly feeling self-conscious of her own scars and silly for thinking of such foolish things.

"I should go…" She muttered softly before turning and briskly walking away from him. Whatever thought had crossed her mind only moments ago was merely because she was drunk, nothing more nothing less. It was just another sign she had over-indulged while at the tavern. Her heart raced as she gingerly touched where he just had.

"Then bloody go already." He shouted down the hall after her. Isolt didn't answer or even turn to look at him again. She pressed closer to her room and further from him keeping her eyes fixed on the ground before her. Each step she took towards her room Isolt felt her heart pounding harder and harder against her chest. Isolt entered shutting the door behind her before collapsing onto her bed, tears staining her cheeks.

* * *

_**(A/N: Hello guys! Thanks so much for your continued support and reviews. Don't worry SouthronWildling you will find out all about Gidon and the people he works for in good time. As always I appreciate each any every one of you reading. Next chapter should be up soon.)**_


	7. Tainted Blood

"_Can we check yet Gen?"_

"_Not yet, Isy. We've just set the bloody things." Her brother answered giving her a sharp look. The young girl pursed her lips before casting her gaze to the mist covered hills that lay beyond him. The sun had barely begun to rise and the dampness had already set into her bones. She sat knees bent to her chest balancing upon the splintered bench set atop a small wobbling boat. _

_Her grey eyes rest upon the sturdy brown haired boy that sat beside her. He was slightly smaller than most boy his age but certainly thicker. A tousled mass of chestnut brown sat atop his head the same as hers, the same as their mothers was. She watched in silence as a deep pit set into her stomach at the thought of her. Isolt bit her lip; nothing good had ever come from her tears. Especially not from Gendrick._

Don't cry _never _cry

_Dark, wide-set brown eyes lay beneath his heavy brow; stubble grew along a squared jaw giving Gendrick the look of a man. Everyone always said Gen was as their father looked 15 years ago; stocky and solid. Isolt kept her gaze fixed to the bottom of the boat not wanting to look at him anymore. Gen was at least kinder than her father but not by much, the only good-hearted people in her family were dead now. One burnt alive years ago the other…_

_They sat in silence for hours. The sun rose, they pulled the net in. _

_Nothing._

_Isolt clutched her knees close to her chest hoping to drive the chill out. Gen sat, watching the water for some time before pulling the net in once more. _

_Nothing._

_Well past sunrise, and well into noon, the pair tried to pull fish from that river. The Gods were not smiling on them._

"_I'm cold."_

"_Throw it back and try again," Gendrick said with a scowl while preparing to throw back his empty net._

"_I can't feel my toes."_

"_Shut your gob Isy. As though I'm not fucking freezing myself " Gendrick said while lunging to grasping the collar of her rough spun wool dress, the awful blue one that made her itch. Isolt said nothing, just leered up at him fingers balled into fists. He released her raising a hand above her. She sat unflinchingly, it wouldn't have been the first time he hit her and it certainly wouldn't be the last. He stopped sighing slightly before placing his hand gently on the top of her head. His expression softened for a moment before he turned from her, muttering curses under his breath while paddling back to the shoreline._

_Isolt smirked slightly as he paddled. He was cold, and hungry too. There was no use getting frostbitten if the fish weren't even biting. That wasn't the only reason he agreed to head back empty handed, Isolt was young but she understood. Gen would never openly admit it, but he loved her. She was his only sister, and she looked just as mother had._

"_You're a real fucking brat, you know that." Gendrick huffed as the boat hit the shore. He swiftly picked the young girl up, placing her on the shoreline before exiting himself. Isolt said nothing, there was no need too. "You know what's going to happen when we come back and show dad we've been out for hours and got _nothing _right?" He staked the boat and glowered down at the girl._

"_I don't care. I'm cold, hungry and tired. We still have some dried roots left. How can we help it if the fish aren't biting? They're probably cold too." Gendrick expression softened as he shook his head slightly. His lips cracked into a smile while giving her hair an affectionate tousle. He turned to her making sure she was following as the pair began to head back to their home. _

_ "Ugh." He grunted before walking "You're going to be the death of me, you little pain in the arse." Isolt crinkled her nose at him opening her mouth to speak._

_ "Who goes there?!" A rough voice called. Gendrick froze for a moment before quickly grabbing Isolt and forcing her to duck alongside him in a bush. Isolt went to say something but he quickly pressed his hand to her lips, forcing her silent. "I know you're hiding, come out." Gendrick remained still, holding his hand over her mouth. "In about three seconds a shite ton of fucking arrows is going to come raining down on you. Come out now and you may live." Isolt pushed her brother off of herself and stood._

_ "Smart girl."_

_ She wanted to be brave like Mervin had been like mother had tried to be. If it was her time to die she wouldn't go out like a craven cowering in a bush. Though it was bravery she was aiming for, her body wouldn't stop trembling. Gendrick stayed lying in the bush, Isolt kept her eyes locked on the men in front of her. There were 3, rough ragged men. Judging by there stench and foul demeanor, they seemed to be ravers from the Iron Island. _

_ "What do you want?" The words left her lips with hardly a second thought. His chapped lips cracked into a smile, as he began to laugh. Isolt felt her cheeks warm as she balled her hands up into a fist. _

_ "What's a little girl doing out all alone so far off the beaten path? It can be dangerous for little girls like you out here. Where your mummy?" The man who spoke was a lanky pathetic looking thing, with a gnarled nose and boney finger bone. Looking at him almost made her laugh. Looking at all of them did. _

_ "I'm not a little girl and that's none of your business."_

_ "Pfft, you hear that Yorgrun?" Another man, short and trim laughed._

_ "S'pose that means you've had your blood then." The man flashed her his grimy jagged teeth with a smirk. Isolts stomach flipped as she took a step outside of the brush getting ready to run. _

_ "That's not your business either. Leave me alone, if my father hears_"_

"_Good, I like 'em young." Yorgrun cut her off while lunging forward. Isolt tried to run, but she was too small, too slow. He tossed her to her back on the floor. Isolt tried to squirm away as the boney man pressed his weight on top of her. His cold fingers began pulling up her skirt. She lurched forward headbutting him in the nose. Yorgrun paused for a moment and smirked despite the fresh crimson staining his face. "Now, now I'll have no more of that. Keep your head down and mouth shut and you'll make it out of here alive child." Yorgrun pressed his face closer to her; she leaned forward sinking her teeth into the flesh of his crooked nose. He screamed out in agony, pushing himself from her while clutching his dangling and bloody nose. "You fucking cunt. You'll pay for that. Hold her down!" He ordered. The other men complied. Isolt did not relent. She fought, kicking and scratching any that came near. One gave her a swift kick to the ribs. It stunned her, giving them a chance to hold her down. Her home was not far, her father would come if he heard her. Isolt kept screaming, struggling, making any kind of scene even after Gendrick appeared from the brush with his knife in hand. _

_ With a sudden flick of the wrist, Gen slashed Yorgruns throat open. The two other men glanced over at him. Isolt took this moment to punch the one closest to her in the bollocks, before swiftly making her escape behind her brother. Gendrick said nothing only tackled the man she had injured to the ground, stabbing him profusely. When the other drew his weapon Isolt ran into him trying to knock him from his feet. She managed to bump him, but she wasn't nearly strong enough to knock him from his feet. The raver caught her with a slap across the face. Isolt yelped, tasting the blood fill her mouth. She spit on the ground as the raver swang at her with his axe. Isolt dodged, falling flat on her back. She tried to crawl away from him, but moments later the sick sound of stone meeting flesh met her ears. Her attackers head crumbled and he fell to the floor. Gendrick knelt over him, bashing his head over and over with the rock. Isolt got to her feet and stood to the side, chest-heaving listening to the sound of stone meeting flesh over and over. With a shout, Gendrick took the bloody rock and tossed it far away as though he didn't want to think of what he had just done._

Don't cry _never _cry.

_ "Are you hurt?" Gendrick shook his head._

_ "Are you?" She shook hers. Gendrick took Isolt onto his back without another word and began to run towards the house. She said nothing, just pressed her head into her brother stinking cotton tunic. She was loud and their father had not come/_

_ He placed her down outside the hut they called home. The door was wide open. Isolt froze and looked up at Gendrick, his brow furrowed as he pressed into the home before her. _

_ "No!" He shouted back at her. "Stay outside." Even on his drunker days, he would never leave to door open, especially not with this chill in the air._

_ "I'm still cold." She said taking another step forward. She pushed her way past him and into a puddle of crimson that lay on the floor. Her father lay there too; dark brown eyes left open even with a deep gash in his throat from ear to ear. Isolts heart dropped, he was a cruel drunk, but still, he was her father. It seemed every year her family grew smaller and smaller she wondered who would be the next to go._

_ Isolt glanced back towards Gendrick as he glared stone-faced at the sight that lay before them._

_ "You avenged him, he would be happy." Isolt sat beside the fireplace trying her best to ignore her fathers corpse the best she could. "Aren't you cold too?" Gendrick said nothing just glowered down at their father. "What are we going to do now…" She sighed._

_ Silence._

_ Gendrick was even silent as he sat beside her, warming his blood covered hands by the fire. Isolt scooted closer to him, as she brushed against his side she noticed he was trembling too. He was just as scared as her. They were children and now they were alone._

_ "Rest up… We leave for the Red Fork tomorrow." Isolt said nothing. She wasn't sure what he planned on doing there but she was in no place to argue. A girl her age would never survive on her own. Isolt said nothing; she didn't even look at him. She just kept staring at the flames._

* * *

"You look like shite today." Bronn commented Isolt jumped slightly being pulled from her daze. She had been so invested in her thoughts she nearly forgot Bronn and Tyrion were eating breakfast with her. Bronn continued to stare at her as he took a scoop of his morning gruel to his lips. The wet smacking sound of him eating was almost enough to make her sick. "What's with the stupid thing around your neck." Bronn reached over the table towards the dark red piece of fabric she had tied around the cut in her neck to hide it.

"Leave it!" She snapped, he immediately froze ad exchanged a look with Tyrion. "I had a late night." That certainly wasn't a lie; in fact, it seemed a miracle that Bronn was even able to wake her at all.

"Still suffering from that dry spell I see." He said coyly causing both him and Tyrion to chuckle slightly. Isolt slammed her hand on the table as she glared over at him. He grinned in response "I'll take that as a yes. You do know male _'company'_ is available here in Kings Landing."

"Firstly I don't bloody need any _'company'_. Secondly, if I did want company I wouldn't have to pay for it like you louts." She snapped.

"Now, now Bronn it's clear she's in a place where we've all been before. Isolt is just in the throes of a particularly nasty hangover, she needs our support and more mead, not our silly jabs."

"What gave it away little man." She growled, Tyrion merely laughed raising his gilded goblet towards her. Isolt picked up her own cup of mead though the smell made her nauseous, Isolt choked some down.

"Let us just say I've been there once or twice before."

As Bronn and Tyrion continued to chatter Isolt placed her head in her hands. At least this horrid hangover was a good cover for what was really distressing her. Traveling to the Red Fork with Gendrick had taught her how to hit and run. Training with Bronn had taught her the basics of fighting and survival. It was her time in Braavos with the Company of the Cat that sharpened her confidence and lethality. They were a group of skilled mercenaries who numbered in the thousands. It was distressing to know that after all these years she was still on their shit list.

The more she thought about last night, the more dread filled her. Especially when she remembered it was the Hound who had come to her aide. As much as it pained her to admit, she was far too drunk to prove any type of threat to anyone last night, least of all Gidon. She had put herself in a bad position, maybe Clegane was right. Maybe Isolt _was _eager to climb into an early grave.

Her heart began to flutter as she thought of what she had done once back at the Red Keep. Isolts cheeks grew warm as she remembered trying to touch his face. Isolt was not timid by any means, but asking about the origins of his burn was far to bold even for her. She would never have asked had she not been so foolishly drunk

"In fact now that I think on it, I heard a whisper about your adventure last night," Tyrion said, pulling her from her thoughts once more. Isolt shot up, trying to seem as though nothing of interest had occurred.

"Oh, and what would that be?"

"Well, you must've been in quite a state to allow Sandor Clegane to escort you back to the Keep. Though I suppose the same could probably be said for him considering your shared distaste for each other."

"What?!" Isolt exclaimed, her cheeks grew warm when she thought of him clutching her shoulders and pressing her against the wall. "How would you have even heard about that? It was only a few hours ago." Tyrions smirk said it all. Isolt pursed her lips, her cheeks going red.

"A few _hours_ ago?" Bronn echoed with distaste as he shook his head slightly.

"I _didn't_ know this juicy bit of information until mere moments ago. It was simply a little game I was playing. I have to say I wasn't quite expecting this result."

"A game?" She glared over at Tyrion, he continued to smile while placing his hands on the table before him.

"Well you see, I know you were out drinking late last night that much is clear. I assume you had ahem, male company," He gestured towards the scarf that covered the slash in her neck. "I simply made up an interesting scenario, which evidently happens to be the very thing that happened. Now I must say I'm intrigued with how this came to be."

"Yeah, so am I," Bronn said sternly after placing his tankard on the table with a small thud followed by a glare.

Isolt glanced at both of the men; it seemed painfully obvious that neither would drop this subject without an explanation of some sort. She sighed, shutting her eyes for a moment as she collected her thoughts on what to say.

"The amount of time you're taking to answer is slightly concerning to me." Bronn grunted, "Don't tell me you actually fucked that ugly arsehole."

"No, of course, I didn't, I would never!" Isolt yelled, slamming her hands on the table once more. "Not that it concerns either of you but he happened to be at the same bar as me. I was drinking with some soldiers he was drinking by himself. The Lannister men headed out a little before I was ready to…" Gidon flashed into her head, then Clegane towering over both her and his corpse. "We both left when the tavern was closing up and seeing as we live in the same direction it's clear how someone could assume we were walking together when in fact we were only walking in close proximity to each other. Nothing happened, we barely even talked and I was as surprised as anyone that we spoke at all.." Isolt blathered. The more she continued the higher the arch in Tyrions brow grew.

"Oh, so there was some 'close proximity' shared between the two of you. Bronn why is it I feel like your cousin isn't giving us the whole story?"

"That's because she ain't."

"Now Isy, I'm hurt. I would think after all we've been through together you'd trust me enough to speak openly about the men in your life. I've been very open with you both about Shae."

_'Save your breath, I've been dealing with much better liars then you my whole life'_

"I'm _not_ lying we were drunk and he insisted we walk home together. We talked nothing more." He cheeks continued to grow warm.

"'He insisted we walk home together?'" Tyrion folded his finger and placed them on his lap. He sat up in his seat, "The more you talk, the clearer it becomes that your initial retelling of these events was not entirely truthful. Tell me what would you and the Hound possibly have to talk about? I'm also curious to learn why he'd be so adamant on escorting you safely home." Tyrion asked curiously.

'_Are you a woman or aren't you?' _Isolt tensed for a moment when remembered the way he was looking at her. The gentle way his fingers traced her face. The fact she had thought of kissing him.

"N-Nothing of import I assure you and you'd have to ask him. I suppose he just didn't want to see another woman harmed that day after that nasty business with Sansa."

"I suppose I could see why he would walk with you, but I'm still not clear on what the two of you would speak about." Isolt narrowed her eyes at Tyrion. He was pressing this far more than she would've liked. "I'm sorry it's just I've known Sandor Clegane for most of my life and I know he's not the type to chit chat about nonsense under any circumstance."

The more Isolt thought about what she spoke about the more she realized she could never tell either of them anything Clegane spoke to her about. Her pride was too great to confess _anything_ that transpired last night. The only thing she could think that might be safe and also put an end to this conversation was the fact she had tried to find out more about his scar.

"He's not… We only talked about one thing, but it obviously pissed him off and we walked in silence the rest of the way."

"Oh I wonder what could possibly piss the Hound off, I've always heard he was such a kind and even-tempered man," Tyrion said mockingly.

"I asked him about his scar an I… Might have tried to touch it..."

"Gods must really want the fucking man to kill you? He could smash you like a fly you dumb twat." Bronn scolded. Isolt shot him an icy look while crossing her arms defensively across her chest.

"You must have been quite drunk to do something that bold ugh… I'm assuming he didn't tell you anything?" Isolt shook her head, "Of all the things you could've asked the man I must say that has to be the worst."

"What? He's a soldier ain't he? Soldiers have battle scars I assumed it was from a battle. I didn't expect him to be so self-conscious about it."

"Of course the mans self-conscious about it you fucking moron, half of his face looks like a burnt mutton chop." Bronn groaned while intensely banging his hand on the table.

"Do you know what happened to him Tyrion?" Isolt asked Tyrion, choosing to completely ignore her cousins' words and actions.

"Well of course I know. I drink and I know things, those are the two things I'm most known for." Isolt stared at him expecting him to continue on with the tale, "I suppose there's no harm in telling you, but just promise you'll never bring it up to the poor man."

"Obviously not. As if I would bring it up after the reaction I got from him last time." She scoffed.

"I don't suppose you've ever heard of the Mountain the rides have you?"

"Of course we have, I told you before we didn't live under a bloody rock." Isolt snapped. "You do remember we were with you at the Green Fork right? The mans a little hard to miss." Tyrion narrowed his eyes at her for a moment before continuing.

"Well, that mans real name is Ser Gregor Clegane, the Hounds older brother." Isolt opened her mouth to speak, but Tyrion beat her to it "Trust me every detail I share with you will be relevant shortly. Even as a child Gregor was bigger than others, it's said that by the time he reached adolescence he towered over most average sized men. Sandor was still young, around six I believe, when it happened. They say he was playing with Gregors toy by the fireplace, a wooden knight. When his brother saw him sitting there playing with something that was his it apparently sent him into a blind rage, he took his younger brothers face and held it against the flames. It wasn't his brothers' cries of pure agony that got him to stop, but some servants. Of course, House Clegane tried to cover up the truth with some nonsense lie, oh his bed sheets caught on fire. Pfft, absolute horse shite."

"That's… Horrible." Was all Isolt could manage to get out. If this story was true she felt even guiltier for the way she had tried to force him to let her touch his face. For a moment she felt her breakfast begin to come up but quickly swallowed it back down. Without another word, to either of them, Isolt rose from the table and quickly left the room. It didn't matter where she went, she just couldn't be there any longer. Though her childhood had not been ideal she couldn't picture a single one of her family members doing something so vile, especially not one of her brothers. The Hounds ordeal brought back memories of her eldest brother Mervin being burned alive. A thought that sent shivers down her spine.

Isolt stopped in the middle of the hall, clutching a wall to hold herself upright. It wasn't like her to show her discomfort so openly. It was a trait she was seeing more and more in herself lately, something that she wanted to put an end too. All these men looked at her and saw a woman, a useless being ruled by emotion, Isolt wouldn't let a few moments of weakness undermine the image she had tried to portray of herself. She shut her eyes and took a shaky breath in a futile attempt to center herself.

"What, more chatty friends come to kill you yet?" Her eyes shot open and up towards the Hound who had stopped beside her. "I told you if there was one man after you there was bound to be others."

"No! It's not that. Keep your voice down about it" Isolt glanced to the ground; looking him straight in the face after hearing that story about him was almost to much to bear. "I-I'm not feeling well…" She placed her hand over her abdomen for a moment before briefly glancing up towards his face. His slightly disgusted expression told her she needn't say more.

"I suppose that explains a lot," He muttered, "You women are even more unstable when you're having your blood." As much as Isolt would've liked to deny this claim it was true. Though her flower was currently not in bloom, it had been known to cause issues during her travels.

"I would appreciate you keeping everything that happened last night between the two of us."

"I would appreciate you looking me in the eye when you're asking for a fucking favor." He snapped. Isolt froze for a moment before turning her focus to him. Despite her best efforts her eyes kept making their way towards the right side of his face. The pain must've been pure agony. "Do I frighten you now songbird? I thought you were supposed to be bold and fearless or is that only when you're drunk?"

"I am, and you don't I just…" She glanced towards the ground for a moment.

"Look at me then." She began, locking eyes with him once more. Her heart softened at a smile crossing his lips. Clegane kept his distance, which Isolt figured was for the best considering last night. "I have no time or interest to think on last night another second. That is a long as your friends stay the fuck away from me."

"They would have no reason to come for you." The moment the words spilled from her mouth Isolt regret it. He smirked. She knew that she had just given Clegane confirmation that she had lied to him before and knew exactly who Gidon was. "Why do you even care to know in the first place? You said I was just lucky you showed up, do you have some sort of vested interest in me that I'm unaware of?"

" What stupid questions." The Hound scoffed, "If you're going to keep asking me stupid shite then just fuck off already I have better things to do than here you whine." As the Hound tuned to walk away Isolt grabbed his forearm without thinking. He turned to her, a scowl etched across his features. "Mind what you say." He threatened.

"Whatever the reason…" Isolt stopped herself; she could no longer use drunkenness as an excuse for her words and behavior. She quickly released his sleeve from her grasp. "I'm thankful you were there, I don't know what would've happened if you weren't there. I owe you one Clegane." He arched his brow slightly.

"I do," He looked down at her, brushing some stray hair from her face, "You would've fucking died. You don't owe me shite girl, just keep your nose clean songbird." Before Isolt could offer up a defense he was walking away from her. It seemed the Hounds back was becoming a familiar sight for her. Isolt immediately headed back towards her room, hoping none of that would find it's way back to Bronn, Tyrion or anyone else for that matter. Though it was difficult to accept, he was right. As much as she hated it, she felt indebted to him now.

* * *

_**(A/N: Hope you all enjoyed a small look into Isolts childhood and I hope it wasn't too confusing kinda just switching time periods mid-story. Thank you as always for the follows/ favorites and reviews. I can assure you there will be plenty more scenarios like what we saw in the last chapter between Sandor and Isolt so I'm glad to see you enjoy them.)**_


	8. The Riot of Kings Landing

"May the Seven guide the Princess on her journey. May the Mother give her health. May the Crone give her wisdom. May the Warrior give her courage."

Isolt repressed a yawn while the Septon droned on. Her grey eyes fell on Princess Myrcella crying her ship disappearing into the horizon of Blackwater Bay. Isolt glanced over towards Tyrion who was having a hushed conversation with Cersei. It seemed the Queen was not pleased with her only daughters' departure. Isolt arched a brow at Tyrions troubled expression; Cersei turned walking back to her spot beside her youngest son keeping her face stoic but blinking back tears. Cersei passed Isolt casting a sharp glare at her. Isolt met her gaze quirking a brow slightly, whatever unpleasantness she had been discussing with Tyrion it certainly had nothing to do with her.

"Come dog." Joffrey command, Isolt glared at him while he made his way from the harbor. Clegane remained blank and followed his King. She clenched her hands into a fist and took a step forward; Bronn clutched Isolts forearm giving it a firm squeeze. She pursed her lips stepping behind Tyrion and Bronn, glancing past them at the Hounds much too distant form.

As they made their way from the Bay back towards the Keep Isolt saw Tyrions dour look had stuck with him. Though Isolt had felt left out of things recently Tyrion was still a decent man in her mind. He was sad to see Princess Myrcella go, that was his only niece. Isolt brushed past Bronn, placing her hand tenderly on Tyrions shoulder. He glanced up at her his brows knit tightly together.

"I'm sorry you had to do that, I know you'll miss the girl. I'm sure she will be safe on her journey to Dorne," Tyrion glanced up at her with a wry half-smile, patting her hand gently with his. "She's a good child… A kind child." Isolt glared up at Joffrey with her last comment.

"It was what needed to be done." Tyrion sighed, "Myrcella will be well taken care of in Dorne. She's far safer there than here given the current state of things." Isolt couldn't agree more, the further from the bay they walked more and more citizen crammed themselves into the crowd. They looked hungry. Most were skin and bones, it seemed a miracle they still stood. She pursed her lips feeling slightly guilty she hadn't realized the denizens of Kings Landing had already begun to starve as a result of Joffreys war. Had living in the Red Keep these past few months made her so far detached from reality already? She had fought in battles before, she had seen the ravages of war, but this felt different.

"Hail Joffrey! Hail to the King!" A man cried in the distance, she assumed he was a guard of some sort. Though the crowd remained somber. It seemed none were eager to praise the selfish twat.

Isolt fell continuing to walk through the city being sure to stick close to the group. The further she walked the more she felt the weight of the crowds' eyes piercing them all. Renly was dead, his men had joined Stannis' armies and now they were all heading towards Kings Landing. She fell back behind Bronn once more. The prospect of battle usually excited her, but for some reason, this one filled her with dread. Isolt felt on edge while the crowd continued gathering outside the entrance to the Red Keep.

"Seven Blessing on you, your grace." A filthy skinny man said from the wall above. Judging by the scowl on his face it was clear he didn't mean it.

"All hail the King!" A voice from the crowd shouted. Isolt looked towards the sea of hollow angry faces that lay before her. None of these people wish the King well, fuck, Isolt didn't even wish him well and she wasn't even starving because of him. A few cries rang out in the distance, the other guards turned their attention to it as well. The people in Kings Landing were crying out for help. They were starving to death, they needed their kings _help_.

"Please you're Grace we're 'ungry!" Another man cried from the crowd, Isolt placed her hands on the hilt of her daggers readying herself for the worst. Nothing good ever came from a large group of starving angry people. Tyrion glanced up at her, momentarily staying her hand. Isolt paused, keeping her eyes at a man from the crowd who was glaring down at Tyrion. Isolt had seen that look before and it was unmistakable, it was pure loathing. Detestation for a man he had never met before. Tyrion must've recognized it too. He turned and muttered something to a Lannister guard before Prince Tommen and his Septa were whisked away.

"Please your Grace we need food!" Isolts heart began to pound faster with each exclamation from the crowd.

"Bread your Grace!" The cries became more and more frantic as the seconds passed. She quickened her pace, being sure to keep Tyrion in her sight. He was a small man, if he became lost in the crowd Isolt doubted he would make it out alive.

Joffrey said nothing just glared while riding through the crowd of his starving citizens. Joffrey would never admit it either, but he was scared too. His scowl disappeared the instant a brown substance met his face from the crowd. Isolt turned her head trying not to retch at the stench of human shit filling the air. Within seconds the Kingsguard and the City Watch pulled their swords and faced the crowd.

"Who threw that? I want the man who threw that! Find out who did that and bring him to me!" The Kingsguard began to press towards the crowd swinging their swords. One of the small folk took a cobblestone and used it to bash in the head of a Gold Cloak. "Kill them, kill them all!" Joffrey screamed his voice cracking. Isolts heart began to race as the crowd surged forward. Within seconds all chaos broke lose driving Isolt away from Bronn and Tyrion. She unsheathed her daggers watching as men began hitting the ground around her. Gold Cloaks and commoners began dropping like flies. A hard thud to her head prompted Isolt to unsheathe her daggers. She turned a fist making contact with her left cheek. Isolt grunted slashing at the man who had just struck her. She spotted a large rock clutched in his hand as he crumbled to the ground. Isolt ignored the ringing in her head and pressed towards the keep. Another set of hands grabbed her vest. Isolt kicked him ignoring the sound of fabric tearing trying frantically to find someone, anyone in the crowd. Alone these men were no match, but together Isolt knew they would quickly overwhelm her.

"Move, MOVE!" She heard Tyrion yell, but his form was lost to her. Isolt tried pressing towards the keep, but her body just kept getting shoved back. Another fist met her face, her nose began throbbing a familiar metallic taste filled her mouth.

"What are you doing?! I want these people executed!" Isolt turned towards Joffreys sequel trying to make her way towards it.

"They want the same for you." Isolts heart skipped a beat at the sound of the Hound. She caught the back of his head towering above the other only several meters away before a pair of hands gripped her arm. Isolt managed to wretch it free catching another glimpse of Clegane in the distance before the crowd pulled her back.

A man grabbed her, she brought her elbow to his throat knocking him to the ground where the rest of the mob quickly trampled him. The ringing in her head became worse as he screamed out in agony. Before having a chance to catch her breath before several other hands grabbed her on ripping her vest half open and tearing the fabric from her neck.

"Oi! This once a woman!" One grunted, sharply pulling her to him. He cupped her breast over her cotton olive tunic, she winced at his rough grasp. Isolt scanned the crowd escaping these men was not the problem, getting through to the keep was another issue entirely. Her breath caught in her throat upon glimpsing Clegane entering an abandoned building. Isolt slashed at the men who held her, catching the side of his throat. The other men paused for a moment, she raised her other blade glaring over at them, the dead mans blood covering her face. The two men immediately ran, there were easier conquests then her in this mess.

Isolt shoved her way through the angry mob kicking and hitting any who stood in her way. Once more something hard made an impact with the side of her head. Isolt just barely kept her ground, her vision blurred slightly. She pushed on. Isolt heard screaming, then silence as she approached the abandoned house Clegane had entered she heard the thick sound of steel meeting flesh. Isolt paused outside before she could enter the Hound came out carrying Sansa Stark over his shoulder. For a quick moment, they locked eyes. He gave her a small nod, which Isolt returned.

"Follow close behind songbird, you'll make it through." He grabbed her hand, hooking her fingers around his belt then turned his back to her hacking through the mob. Isolt clutched his belt tightly in her left hand watching in awe, even while carrying someone on his shoulder he was still more powerful then she could ever dream of. She had been a fool to ever think she was his match. Isolt got a better look at Sansa Stark. Her pretty porcelain skin was streaked with tears; her fine lilac dress had been torn. Isolts heart dropped, hoping Clegane had only gotten to her before…

"FUCK YOU DOG!" A particularly stupid man yelled as he came running towards them with a knife drawn. Clegane glanced over his shoulder, but Isolt was quicker. With one slash she caught his throat with the dagger she held in her right hand sending a spatter of blood across the three of them. Sansa let out a quivering sob, it continued all the way up to the gates of the Red Keep.

Even after entering the safety of the keep Isolt kept her hand tightly clutched to Clegane following him to where he placed Sansa Stark down beside her handmaidens. The Hound turned to her, Isolt remained fixed to his side.

"Are you hurt my Lady?" Tyrion asked while approaching them. Sansa said nothing only sat stunned and crying.

"Little birds bleeding," Isolt glanced up at Clegane unsure of what to make of his eerily similar nickname for the Stark girl. She released his belt casting her gaze to the floor. "Take her back to her cage. See to that cut."

"Well done Clegane." Tyrion said. A sour look spread across the Hound as he turned to leave.

"I didn't do it for you." His eyes caught Isolt, he paused beside her clutching her shoulder gently in his hand. Isolt placed hers on top of his without a second thought, she didn't even care who was staring.

"You're hurt to songbird." He said nodding towards her cheek where the man had struck her with a rock. Isolts face flushed at the familiarity he continued to show in front of everyone. She quickly brought her hands to her side.

"I'll be fine."

"I'm sure you will." He said, his lips curling into a ghost of a smile. "In any case, be sure to get that nose set songbird or it'll heal gnarled." The Hound left without another word. Isolt stood stunned, ears still ringing from the hits she had received during the riot as he disappeared from view.

"Isolt?" Tyrion asked, quickly refocusing his attention on her. Isolt shook her head, her hands still shaking from adrenaline, or was it fear? "Isolt!" Tyrion grasped her hand in his, commanding her attention. She forced out a shakey laugh, pulling her hand from his grasp. "Your face… Your neck…"

"I-I'm fine. They're all just flesh wounds nothing to worry about. Not the first time I've broken my nose..." She said quickly covering the neck wound that had begun to scar, Tyrion knit his brow "I'm sorry I got separated… It all happened so fast I saw you one second then the next you were all gone." Isolt glanced around the courtyard wondering how many had died, realizing she could've been one of them. "Clegane… I saw him and…" Her eyes wandered towards Sansa Stark, she had been brought to her feet and was being led away. "I'm fine." She said again, trying to convince herself more than anyone else

"It's alright, we're alive that's all that matters," Isolt answered him with a shaky nod. "Come now let's get you to a Maester then into a nice bath and for supper a nice flagon of Donrnish red all to yourself." Isolt forced a smile, Tyrion meant well, but a flagon of fine wine was the furthest thing on her mind right now.

* * *

"What happened back there?" Tyrion asked. Isolt sighed dipping her brown bread into some stew. "You don't have to tell us anything I'm _"

"There ain't much to say…I got separated, some dumb fuckers tried me but, well, I got them first. It was fine _I_ was fine. I saw the Keep and was beginning to make my way out of there then I heard screaming and I saw the Hound… I went to help or I went there for his help I can't remember it all happened so fast… By the time I got there San_" She caught herself nearly calling the Hound by his first name, after how familiar he had been with her in the courtyard earlier that was a slip she simply couldn't allow "Clegane had already saved the Stark girl. He stepped out of the building, Sansa Stark slung over his shoulder and he saw me. Told me to stay close said I'd make it out if I did he had me hold onto his belt so he could feel I was still with them… I clung to him, I stayed close and we almost made it back with no problem. Some fucking idiot came running at us with a knife… I got him before he could get to Clegane or the Stark girl..." Isolts voice trailed off before taking another bite of her food.

"The cut on the neck?" Tyrions eyebrows rose at the implication that it might have had.

"It's nothing."

"That don't look like nothing." Bronn quipped. "Looks to me you got sliced not too long ago, but that wounds not fresh. It couldn't be from today."

"It's _nothing."_

"The name?" Tyrion pressed on past the scar on her neck. "_Songbird_?"

"Just another way for him to mock me I suppose."

"If that was the case then you would've been at him with all you had. I know you better than that by now Isolt."

"Sounds a bit intimate if you ask me." Bronn quipped. Isolt ignored him she was aching and tired. She had no patience to deal with his smart remarks.

"He's a good man, better then most I've met" Her eyes were fixed downwards, "He doesn't deserve all the shite he gets, least of all from me."

"So you _have_ fucked him then." Bronn chimed in.

"No! Why does everything have to be about fucking with you?" Isolt snapped, slamming her hands on the table. "The mans earned my respect, he's helped me now on multiple occasions with no promise of reward_"

"Ah, I understand now. He wants to fuck _you_." Isolt stood up and darted to her cousin. He was still laughing even as she stood before him. "You could do worse I suppose, do you just keep your eyes shut and let him thrust away? No, you never struck me as a girl who'd take anything lying down_" Isolt struck him across the face, causing Bronn to fall silent.

In all their years of traveling together, Isolt had never actually slapped him. Most of the time Bronn would catch her hand or dodge out of the way then slap her in return. Isolt wasn't sure what was different about this time, but she was thankful for her success. Bronns face flashed red, it wasn't often she saw him wear a look other than cockiness. This unsettled her.

"You fucking cunt." Bronn spat before he struck Isolt twice as hard as she just had on her freshly injured cheek. They both reached for their daggers.

"Now I will have none of that, Bronn I think you'd best leave so I can have a word alone with Isolt." Bronn glowered over at Tyrion then back at Isolt for a moment before leaving the room without another word.

Isolt returned to her seat, hand clutching her throbbing cheek. She kept her eyes anywhere aside from Tyrion.

"I don't really know why, but I feel you aren't being completely honest."

"I swear Imp if you make the same crude suggestion_" Tyrion raised his hand to silence her.

"I'm not, and I agree with you. It's none of our business what you are or aren't doing with him. I also find that Clegane is a _good _man. He's demeanor is certainly less than pleasant, but his heart seems decent enough. He never would've gone back for the Stark girl if that weren't the case. He also never would've helped you the way you claim he has."

"Aye." Isolt agreed sharply.

"I hope you know that if you let me _I _can help you too. You've come here to work for me if that's brought you any trouble I would like to know so I can sort it out. I don't want living here to be misery for you."

For a moment Isolt considered telling Tyrion everything. About that night at the bar, about the Company of the Cat, about all the exchanges she had shared with Clegane and how they had left her utterly confused. He _was _a good man, yes but to her, he was mostly just an arsehole, a confusing arsehole who pinned her against a wall in a fit of rage on second, the gently stroked her cheek the next.

"This is beyond you Little Lord." Isolt said, "I don't want you involved and I don't want Bronn to know."

"So you are in some trouble then. " Isolt shut her eyes, knowing she had betrayed herself to him once again. "Is that how you came to bare that angry looking gash across your neck."

"Aye, but it's nothing I can't handle."

"And the Hound?"

"Same goes for him." Isolt excused herself from the table and made her way to the door. Before she could leave Tyrion said one thing more.

"That's not what I meant…"

Isolt shut the door. She knew that. She _knew_ what he meant, but she also didn't have an answer for him. How could she talk about something she was so unsure of herself? Even now thinking of the Hound set her stomach fluttering.

* * *

_**(A/N: Thanks for your continued support, I'm glad to see this story is being so well received. I mostly write fanfiction for my own enjoyment, but it's always nice to hear about other people enjoying it as well. Especially from people whos writing far outshines my own. I don't have a beta and do all the editing myself so I hope things have been alright and not difficult to read I probably re-read each chapter 20+ times before posting. Appreciate you all for sticking with me, will probably post the next chapter in the next few days. Depends on when I get to edit it.)**_


	9. Royal Favour

A week had passed since the riot and Isolts face was still swollen and bruised. Her steely gray eyes were set beneath flesh mottled with dark purple and dark reds resembling raw mutton chop. Clegane was right, she had broken her nose during the incident, Maester Pycelle was able to set it nicely enough. In fact it seemed to fix her previous breaks. The bridge of her nose was swollen and purple, but far less crooked than before. A deep gash was set into her left temple from where the man had struck her with a rock. The wound had been cleaned and stitched together with silk.

Isolt winced while lightly pressing her fingers against the bridge of her nose. The pain wasn't nearly as bad as it had been, in fact, she looked far worse than she felt at this point. Aside from the minor scrapes and bruises, otherwise she had survived the mob unscathed.

Tyrion had not summoned her since the riot, Isolt wanted to believe it was only because he was allowing her time to rest. Though she anted to believe that, she couldn't help but feel as though something was off. Since a little after the bastard incident, Isolt sensed that Tyrion and Bronn were hiding something from her.

She left her room before heading towards the Hands Tower. The walk was long and tedious, but she felt well (and bored) enough to see if Tyrion had any interesting news or jobs for her. The sun had been beating down upon the city making the Red Keep feel like a furnace. Isolt wiped the sweat from her brow before turning a corridor.

"Stop right there woman!" Isolt froze cringing at the familiar voice, she sighed before taking another step forward. What ever Meryn Trant wanted to harrass her about was of little interest to her "I command you in the name of the King to halt immediately."

Isolt stopped, glancing over her shoulder towards Trant and another older man with brittle grey hair. He was certainly an ugly man he had a broad chest and short, bowed legs. She recognized him, the flat nose and drooping jowls had stuck somewhere in her mine. It wasn't until she noticed he was adorned in an alarmingly unsoiled snowy white cloak that Isolt confirmed that he was indeed Kingsguard. The golden lion broach with tiny ruby eyes that fastened his cloak shut told her he was in the Lannisters pockets. His name escaped it, not that it mattered much, he looked like a useless thing not worthy of note. Isolt smirked crossing her arms over her chest while turning to face them.

"I've not the time nor patience to humor you today Trant," Meryn snarled up at Isolt, the other man did the same.

"I should give you a smack for your insolence, but it seems someone has already beat me to it," The men smirked exchanging glances with each other. Meryn placed his hand near the hilt of his sword before returning his attention to Isolt. "The Queen has summoned you. We are to bring you to her immediately."

She quirked brows, whatever the reason Cersei wanted to meet with her for Isolt doubted it would be anything good. She wondered if it might be wise to inform Tyrion of his sisters' attempt to speak with her. Though Isolt had not been in Kings Landing long it was clear to see the Queen resented her little brother. She could only assume she was being called upon in reference to him.

"Why?" Though it seemed unlikely Trant or the other man would answer, Isolt saw no harm in asking.

"You dare question a royal decree?" The flat nosed man said, placing his hand on the hilt of his sword. Isolt narrowed her eyes, though she knew better than to reach for her dagger. "She gave no orders as to what state we were to bring you in. I'll gladly take you by force if you'd like." She leered up at him her jaw clenching slightly.

"No need to get so jumpy, I never said I wasn't coming. I'm merely curious as to why she would want to speak to me, you know me Trant and I know you find me to be of little interest."

"It's not my job to question royalty. Last time I checked it's not yours either" Meryn sneered, his dark eyes growing beady with anger. "Enough talk try and make yourself…" Meryn looked her over with a small laugh "I would say presentable, but that seems an impossible task given your current stat." Isolt shrugged taking a few steps towards the men.

"You're right Meryn," His face dropped at her much to familiar use of his given name. "Since we all agree this is a presentable as I'll ever be, let's get on with it." The unnamed man stepped forward, producing a fine silken gown he had draped over his forearm. It was a deep teal with golden flowers and birds embroidered on the bodice.

"The Queen has insisted you wear this." Isolt quirked a brow as he thrust the dress towards her, she smiled a small laughed spilling from her lips. "A gift from her to you."

"I'd rather not." The words slipped from her lips before realizing the implication they would have.

"How _dare _you refuse a gift from the Queen." Meryn lunged forward trying to grasp her shoulder. Isolt stepped to the side; his fingers grazed her before her stumbled forward nearly falling to the ground. Isolt cocked her head slightly, a smirk tugging at her lips as she fought to hold back a snicker. Trants face flashed red as he stiffened glowering down at her. "Put it on yourself or we will put you in it by force, the choice is yours." Meryn spat, Isolt pressed her lips together and narrowed her eyes at him. Her injuries were mostly cosmetic she could still easily fight the pair of them. Isolt tightened her jaw while glancing over at the flat nosed Kingsguard. He held the gown out towards her once more, Isolt scowled snatching it from his hands; this wasn't worth the fight.

She said nothing, just turned and made her way back towards her room. The whole way Trant and the flat nosed Kingsguard followed uncomfortably close behind. They called upon a servant girl washing the barracks floor to follow. Isolt did not know her by name, but she was a familiar face. They remained silent until Isolt reached her room. She stepped inside, Meryn and the man went to follow. Isolt shut the door slightly being sure to block their path.

"The Queen has commanded my presence. She insists I wear this_ thing _I am complying. I have the girls help, there will be no need to have you two apes in there gawking at me as I dress." Before they could argue Isolt pressed the door shut, locking it behind her. Isolt let out a sharp sigh while walking towards her bed.

The servant girl said nothing, merely stood her round hazel eyes fixed on Isolt as she turned her back to undress. Isolt felt odd knowing the gaunt young girl was watching her strip down.

"I-I don't usually dress the Ladys' I'm sorry_" Isolt glanced over her shoulder, covering her breast with her arm.

"Youngling does this look like the face of a fine lady to you?" The girls' unruly brow knit together as she seemed to search for the right words to say.

"O-Of course." Isolt narrowed her eyes, "I mean_"

"No need to talk, just help me into it." The girl said nothing as she helped Isolt into a corset that was much to ridged for her liking. Isolt felt slightly faint, it seemed a miracle anyone could breathe in these blasted things. She gazed longingly towards her olive green tunic and brown leather armor that sat on the edge of her. It was an odd sensation wearing a gown fit for a Highborn Lady, feeling the breeze between her knees.

"I haven't worn a dress in years…." Isolt confessed.

"You look lovely milady."

Isolt laughed while turning to look at herself in the mirror. It became quite clear why Cersei would've wanted her to wear a dress, it seemed she was making a little joke of her. Her toned arms were exposed, as were the bruises and scars that littered them. The dress was low cut exposing an uncomfortable amount of cleavage along with some particularly nasty scars she had acquired over the years. One was a ridged red gash that ran across the length of her right collarbone spilling onto her shoulder. Isolt kept a thin piece of black fabric tied around her neck. Though she already looked a horrid sight there was no harm in covering the healing throat wound.

"It's not polite to lie little girl, and I thought I told you before I'm no Lady." Isolt made her way to the door, suddenly feeling very naked. She reached for her hip where her daggers usually sat, as much as Isolt hated it she couldn't very well strap her belt over the dress without complaints from Trant. She didn't want to go anywhere with Meryn least of all unarmed. Isolt sighed and exited the room, hoping she would have no need to fight on her way to the Royal Apartments.

"You still look a mess," Trant peered down at her, the corner of his lips twitched into a twisted smirk. "No wonder the Imp has you hide beneath those leathers of yours." His eyes caught her scarred collar bone soliciting an even larger grin. Isolt bit her lip and turned her back to him, feeling increasingly uncomfortable under his gaze.

"Just take me to her already."

Isolt crossed her arms over her chest. She wanted to tell him to shut the fuck up. She wanted to gouge his beady little eyes out. She kept her mouth pressed together contemplating all the thing she wanted to do to these men, but couldn't. Isolts face continued to ache and throb as they walked for what felt like ages, she hadn't gotten a chance to get more herbs to bring down the swelling. As Isolt pushed past her current discomfort she noticed they had brought her to a section of the castle she had never been before. Tyrions room was opulent, but it was nothing compared to the rooms she was currently going through. Everything was gold plated, every chair was crafted with as much intricate detail as the murals and tapestries that lined the finely constructed walls. Isolt assumed she had reached the Royal Apartments.

"Now this certainly is an interesting sight, seems my uncles," Isolt tensed as she turned to face Joffrey forcing a pleasant smile. He furrowed his brow with mock confusion, "Guard was it?" Isolt almost had half a mind to turn back around and keep walking, but Ser Meryn grasped her shoulder tightly in his hand holding her in place. She glared up at him before returning her attention towards the King, Joffrey pressed his lips together into a wry smile "It seems you've finally realized your stupidity and have decided to try your hand at being a proper 'Lady'." Joffrey laughed, Meryn and the flat nosed Kingsguard joined. "What was your name again?"

"Isolt." She said through clenched teeth.

"Isolt?" He raised his eyebrow expectantly. "What no second name?"

"No Your Grace." Isolt glanced past Joffrey towards Clegane. She quickly cast her gaze downward, for some reason knowing _he _had seen her like this was more humiliating then anything.

"A commoner, no wonder you're so foolish," Isolt said nothing, just forced a pleasant smile across her face. The King was a fool, she's rather him believe she was not worth the effort of caring about. "Well, of course, you'll never be a true Lady, but I suppose this is still and improvement." Isolt face dropped as he reached out taking her chin in his fingers. "Your face was never a thing of beauty, but I much preferred it before."

"Aye, as do I your Grace. I'm afraid I took some blows during the riot after_" Isolt felt Cleganes eyes burrowing into her. She tensed as Jofrrey returned his hand to his side.

"After what?" Joffrey asked sharply.

"After those peasants tried to terrorize you, Your Grace. I was so… offended the would treat their King that way I made sure to stay behind and kill as many as I could. That was your command after all. I _live_ to serve you." Her tone was more sarcastic then she had intended, but she hoped the young King would be too dense to notice.

Joffrey pursed his lips, observing her for a moment. Isolt kept her eyes locked on him. The only scary thing about this boy was the fact he could order these three men to seize her and have her head in a manner of seconds. Isolt did not have many dealings with Kings but she doubted that all of them were such vicious little cunts. She would've loved if her blade met his throat during the riot; unfortunately, there was no circumstance where that would have occurred. Of course, Joffrey was one of the first to make it back safely he was the King.

"Oh is it me you '_serve', _or my uncle?" Isolt kept silent glancing up towards Clegane. He was staring down at her with a blank expression. Her stomach sank when she pondered on what things might be going on in his head. She had no doubt he found her appearance as amusing as the Queen would. "Once you're in a state to be seen maybe I'll visit your bedchamber, perhaps you can '_serve'_ me with honor there as well." Jofrrey eyed her curves with a grin. A chill ran down her spine at the thought of Joffrey forcing his way into her bed. "Come dog. " Joffrey snapped while continuing down the hall, the Hound followed close behind. Isolt dared one last glance at him as they walked away. His dark eyes caught hers, his jaw clenched, as he looked her over before turning and walking away. Isolts brows knit, her heart dropped into her stomach.

"Hurry up," Meryn gave her a sharp shove forward and out of her thoughts. Isolt fixed her gaze towards the white marble that lay beneath her feet while silently following behind the two Kingsgaurd. She jolted upright at the sound of Meryn knocking on the intricately carved wooden door that lay before them.

"One moment," Cerseis voice called from inside. Isolt took a sharp breath in before freezing; now that she was actually here she couldn't shake the overwhelming pit of dread that had taken hold in her stomach. She glanced over at Trant and the flat nosed Kingsguard only to find them peering down at her. Isolt turned her back to them. If the Hound were here she doubted Trant would have the bollocks to look at her the way he had been. Clegane could be abrasive, but he didn't appear as though he was taking pleasure in her torment as these two seemed too.

When the door finally opened and Sansa Stark came out, tears staining her porcelain white cheeks. Another Kingsguard exited the room behind her, his face was oddly flat and lifeless. Isolt tilted her head slightly while giving him a look over. After catching a glimpse of his pale grey fish like eyes a shiver ran down Isolts spine. This man was often standing guard outside of the council chambers. She remembered Tyrion calling him Ser Mandon Moore, she also remembered he was considered by most to be one of the more competent fighters within Joffreys Kingsguard.

Though he had never so much as blinked in her direction until this very moment Isolt had never liked the look of him. He was quite unlike his brothers in arms, but it was often the quiet ones who were most dangerous. Sansa pushed through before pausing for a moment. Her brow knit as she turned and looked over at Isolt. She scanned Isolts bruised and battered features it took a moment before a look of recognition came to the young girls face. Isolt was unsurprised by this even without the facial injuries, most would have difficulty recognizing her dressed as she currently was.

"My Lady, I never got to thank you for the other day. You saved my life," Isolts cheeks warmed as Sansa dipped into a curtsey. Seeing Lady Stark was unexpected enough, to have her attempt to thank her in this way was astonishing, to say the least. She seemed a sweet girl, but she was still Highborn. Highborn Ladys' did not bend to mercenary scum like her. "I apologize for not seeking you out sooner. I'm afraid I don't even know your name."

"No need, for any of that sweet girl." She gave a dismissive wave with her hand, "I'm no Lady, and I wasn't the one who saved you though I certainly wouldn't let those animals have at you. I'm glad I was able to help in some small way. You can call me Isolt if it please you," Isolt forced a smile; though there were many things currently upsetting her this poor teenager was not one of them. Sansas' face dropped as she continued to study Isolts face.

"I hadn't realized you were so badly hurt… because of _me_, I'm truly sorry." Sansa breathed before abruptly turning and leaving. It was both kind and slightly grating that she would think Isolts injuries were due solely because of her. With or without the Stark girls presence Isolt would've been hurt, that's what happens during a revolt.

Meryn and the fat man laughed to themselves as Sansa and Ser Moore left. Isolt shot them a stony glare while they continued to chuckle, apparently that whole exchange had been amusing to them. Anger welled up in her chest, what kind of grown men took pleasure in seeing a young girl so upset? The longer Isolt waited the more her irritation and anxiety mounted.

"You may enter." Trant pushed the door open, gesturing for her to step inside. Isolt did as she was bid; her jaw-dropping slightly a the sheer opulence that lay before her. The walls were lined with gold threaded embroidery. Some tapestries depicted house Lannisters sigil and words. Others represented unfamiliar scenes featuring lions and other house symbols. She was sure there was some greater meaning behind the scenes that were shown, whatever that actually was, was completely lost on Isolt.

The room was alarmingly large and filled with various other valuables. Even the pieces of furniture had parts covered in gold leaf. Isolt shifted uncomfortably after stopping beside the table where Cersei sat. He jaw clenched when she realized this one room in the Royal Apartments was filled with enough value that, if sold, could provide enough gold to feed all of Flea Bottom for months. It was little wonder that the people hated the Royal family so damn much. "Thank you Ser Meryn, Ser Blount," Cersei said with a cloying smile as the two Kingsguard entered behind Isolt. They stopped at the door, pulling it shut behind them. Isolt forced a smile across her face before giving the Queen a small and clumsy bow.

Cersei arched a finely groomed eyebrow while smirking into her wine glass.

"You bow like a pig farmers son." A flush crept across her face, "I can't say I'm surprised my brother still hasn't taught you a proper curtsey. It's isn't difficult, I've been doing it since I was three. Shall I get up and show you?"

"I'm sorry milady_"

"'Your _Grace_'," Isolt stiffened at her tone, "I'm not some common Lady I am your Queen. You've been in the capital for some time now. One would think even an idiot would know that much by now." Isolt lowered her gaze, wondering if the Queen had merely summoned her to mock Isolt on her lack of etiquette.

"Of course, Your Grace." Isolt shifted awkwardly waiting for Cersei to speak. She had sparse interactions with the Queen during the few months she had been in Kings Landing. None of them seemed worthy of note. The only time Cersei had ever actually spoken to her was upon her arrival at Joffreys name day celebration. Since then she had seen her a handful of times, the two never spoke. In fact, Cersei didn't even seem to ever acknowledge Isolt. The day of the riot, by Blackwater Bay, was the first time the Queen shot her an icy look since her arrival. Isolt had found it odd at the time but only assumed Cersei was upset about Myrcellas departure. It seemed a natural thing to take that anger out on those around you, especially for royalty. She wondered if Cersei felt Isolt had anything to do with Myrcella being shipped off to Dorne. She furrowed her brow hoping that was not the case.

Isolt cautiously glanced towards the blonde woman. The corner of Cerseis' lips twitched into a smirk as she kept her eyes fixed on Isolt.

"You called for me Your Grace?" Irritation pricked at her with each moment that passed. The way Trant and Blount rushed her here one would think Cersei had something urgent to discuss.

"I did." Cersei took another sip of wine before setting the cup down. She crossed her soft hands and placed them on top of the dark varnished tabletop.

Isolt stood still waiting once more for a real answer. The more she stood in silence the more her annoyance grew.

"Well, here I am." Cersei sat back in her chair. Though Isolts words were not particularly disrespectful her tone may have been. Isolt had never faired well with diplomacy.

"Do you enjoy my gift to you?" Isolts smile slipped at the Queens question. In reality, Isolt hated it, but even she knew better than to admit that. Isolt rand her fingers along her bodice trying to think of something to say that would appease Cersei. "I'm glad to see it fits. Every woman should have at least one pretty thing before she dies."

"I'm no great beauty like yourself and I'm afraid the value of pretty things is lost on me. I am still extremely grateful for the generosity you've shown me with such a lovely and considerate gift." Cersei narrowed her eyes; it appeared she was not buying Isolts words of praise.

"It seems my brother has taught you some things while here... Sit," Cersei buried her face in her wine glass once more as Isolt gingerly sat across from her. "You look incredibly out of sorts. Have you ever actually worn a dress? It's surely been years since you have." A half smile remained plastered across her lips while her emerald eyes continued surveying Isolt. "Drink." Cersei nodded towards an empty glass that sat on the table near her. Isolt reached out cautiously pouring herself a glass.

"Thank you, Your Grace," Isolt said before forcing another smile and taking a sip. It was a fine Dornish red the kind Tyrion had so often provided for her "I believe it was little over fifteen years ago, not since I was a young girl." She glanced down at her scarred chest wondering why Cersei seemed so glad to see her so uncomfortable. "Nothing fancy like this, just basic and roughspun. Just something to keep covered."

" Fifteen years? My that is quite a bit of time. I find it a curious thing, what makes a young girl want to dress and act like a man?"

"It's much safer for a young girl to travel that way. I'm afraid my brother and I were forced from our home during Roberts Rebellion. To make things easier for him he decided I should dress as a boy while we traveled." Isolts heart dropped at the thought of her brother and their time spent traveling to join Roberts Rebellion at the Red Fork; it wasn't a time she liked to dwell on. As a child, she resented her brother for how hard he was on her during that time. After his death Isolt realized everything he did, he did only to ready her for the real world with all its harsh realities. Only the strong survived, she wouldn't have made it far if he hadn't toughened her up. Isolts grip tightened around her cup "Is that why you've called me here, do you care to hear about my adolescence? I can't imagine you have time for such a long dull story."

"You're right, I don't. Drink." Rage swelled within Isolt once more as she rose the glass to her lips, her patience with the Queen was wearing thin. "You've come to the capitol with my brother. He claims you assisted with the victory at the Green Fork, of course initially I had my doubts. He made ridiculously grandiose claims about you shooting a man from 100 yards off, he also claimed you fell fifty Stark soldiers before the battle was won."

"I'm afraid I wasn't keeping track, Your Grace."

"I've heard you hailed as an excellent fighter despite your gender. The Lannister men keep going on and on about your speed and accuracy. I've heard that you were fearsome enough to scare some of Roberts old… Acquaintances." Cerseis' face soured at the mention of this. Isolt buried her face in her cup hoping to cover her scowl. "It was a necessary evil that the crown will not forget your part in." She clenched her jaw, her stormy grey hues glared over at Cersei. If she had ever known what she was helping accomplish back then she would've just listened to Clegane. Though like he had said before, they would've gotten the names with or without her help. "I hadn't realized the smallfolk had done such an awful number on you during the riot. I heard that you also performed well there as well, assisting our Hound with the retrieval of Sansa Stark." Cersei said, redirecting her train of thought. Isolt blinked over at her, wanting nothing more than for the Queen to get to the bloody point already. "This is a queer thing. I know you know nothing about fashion, but it looks ridiculous." Cersei reached over the table and snatched the black fabric from around her neck. Isolt froze, unsure of how she would actually answer any questions about this matter. "I would say that's an improvement but given the state of your neck that wouldn't be entirely true," Cersei said with a small laugh as she dropped the fabric on the floor beside her.

"Cuts, bruises and scars are a normal occurrence in my line of work."

"It would appear so."

"Is there something you would like me to help you with your Grace or am I merely here on a social call?" Isolt asked, her tone sharper then she had intended.

"How dare you speak to the Queen that way." Ser Meryn said while walking towards her. Isolt got to her feet, she wasn't just going to allow him to attack her, even if she were weaponless.

"Impatient little thing aren't you? Sit back down." Cersei snapped, Isolt immediately crumbled back into her seat casting her gaze briefly to the ground. "Ser Meryn, Ser Blount; leave us." Cersei eyed the door, ensuring the two men had exited the room before continuing. "I have a matter I need dealing with."

Isolt blinked over at her, unsure of what to make of this. Cersei had always seemed resentful towards her.

"I'm flattered that you would think to come to me, but I don't see what I could possibly help you with. After all, you have such _fine_ men working with you like… Ser Meryn and uhm Ser Blount_"

"And the Hound?' Cersei said with a half-smile into her wine glass. Isolt froze for a moment before the Queen laughed "You are not well cut out for lying, it's a good thing there will be no need for that."

Isolt remained silent for a moment, keeping her stony glare fixed on Cersei.

"I suppose he's alright as well."

"Yes, all fine strong brave _men._ They lack what I need."

"And what's that you're Grace?"

"A woman's touch."

"I'm flattered you would_"

"Do not speak out of turn again." Isolt shut her mouth tightly, "There's a man not far from here, he lives in a sprawling manse near the Street of Silks. He's been rumored to be one of those who enjoy spreading vile lies about the King. Do you know what rumors I speak of?"

"I'm afraid I never put much stock in gossip." Of course, Isolt knew what rumors Cersei was talking about. She had always suspected them to be true, but by the way, Cersei was speaking it seemed confirmation that the rumors were indeed as true as she believed.

"That is very touching to hear, but not the question I asked." Isolt felt a shiver run down her spine as she contemplated what to say. As she opened her mouth to speak Cersei raised her hand to silence her "Remember I've already established what a poor liar you are. It is a great crime to lie to your Queen. Do it again and I'll see that you lose your tongue."

Isolt narrowed her eyes unsure of what Cersei could possibly be getting from this. If it were Isolt she would do all she could to avoid hearing anything about it. There was no sensible reason for doing this.

"I heard people claim that King Joffrey is a bastard born out of incest between you and your brother Ser Jaime," Isolts' lips spread into a line "Of course as I've already said I don't believe such vile nonsense. Joffrey is the true and rightful heir. His rule has been a blessing to us all." Isolt rambled off what she knew was expected of her. Of course, she didn't believe a word of it.

"Your devotion to your King is moving." Cersei paused before pulling a sealed piece of parchment from a stack of papers that sat beside her. "Bring this letter to Lord Dargood. I want you to watch him ensure he reads it." Isolts brow arched, it seemed a silly task She could only assume the Queen was expecting to use this as some sort of way to demoralize her. Isolt took the letter from her.

"That's all?"

"That's all."

"Shall I come back and tell you_"

"That won't be necessary. Leave, now. Ser Meryn," The door opened, Mery came in a scowl already playing across his features. "See that our honored guest makes it to the front gates without incident. She has a very important letter that is to be immediately delivered. It is of the utmost importance that she isn't delayed."

Meryn smirked while motioning for Isolt to leave the room. Isolt walked with Ser Meryn in silence until she went to turn for her room. Trant gripped her shoulder tightly in his hand and shook his head.

"Where do think you're going?"

"To get changed and arm myself, I can't very well go traipsing about the capitol dressed like this especially with no sort of protection."

"You can and you will, the Queen ordered you to deliver that letter immediately." Isolt narrowed her eyes at him, she wasn't some errand girl to be bossed around and yet she had little choice in the matter. She wrenched her shoulder from his grasp and continued to make her way towards the exit. She felt her cheeks grow warmer with each step, the only blessing was that the sun was beginning to go down, perhaps she wouldn't be stared at so much with the curfew in effect not many dared to wander the streets at night anymore.

Isolt quickly made her way to Lord Dargoods estate ignoring the prolonged stares she received from the dwindling crowds. She pinched her nose slightly again, feeling another headache coming on. Isolt groaned slightly, she had never gotten to get that medicine; she would have to do it when she got back. After getting changed of course.

She stepped through the alleys until reaching the outside of the house that Cersei had specified. Whoever lived there it certainly seemed as though they were rich. The outside of the mansion was surrounded by a lush garden enclosed by a wrought iron fence.

"Best turn back woman, my master is taking no visitors," Isolt said nothing only helped the letter before him, making sure he saw the Queens seal. "Ah-eh right one-moment milady I'll go fetch Lord Dargood."

Isolt stood outside the entrance to the manse feeling much more vulnerable then she would've liked. She had no clue what to expect from this Lord Dargood. For all she knew Cersei had sent her here hoping she would meet her death. She seemed a cruel woman, Isolt wouldn't put it past her. As the sun began setting into Blackwater Bay Isolts stomach churned slightly. She was well aware of the curfew that had been put into place as a way to punish the citizens of Kings Landing for the riot. Isolt doubted the City Watch would actually bring her to the blade for disobeying it thought that was a theory she'd rather not test.

A short portly man a puffy mustache and long. thinning salt and pepper hair came to the door. His dark brown eyes grew wide at Isolts unanticipated appearance, for a moment she thought he would slam the door in her face. Isolt could hardly blame him in he had.

"Lord Dargood I presume?"

"Yes, who exactly are _you_?" His words were tainted with disgust. Isolt handed him the sealed letter.

"That hardly matters Lord Dargood. Here, a message from our Queen." The fat Lord snatched the paper from her hands, he observed the seal for a long moment, it seemed he thought Isolt was trying to trick him. She stood silently, her arms hanging at her side. As he read his face blanched, a small bead of sweat running down his double chins. Isolt quirked a brow wondering what the later was saying as his beady eyes flashed frantically from the page to her.

"Tell her Grace I'm_"

"I won't be telling her Grace anything, she only asked me to deliver this message. I assume she knew you would be smart enough heed it's a warning."  
"O-Of course my Lady!" He shouted, Isolt turned and began to walk out of his courtyard, "My Lady! Surely given your current state and the curfew that's in place you would like to stay at my mansion for the night. It's clear you are not in good standing with the crown." Isolt quirked a brow at that comment, surely she wasn't dear friends with Cersei or her son, but she doubted she had committed any deed that had greatly offend them. Cersei had acknowledged her attributions herself.. Lord Dargood reached a pudgy hand towards Isolt "I have wine and a nice warm bed_"

"I appreciate your _generosity_." Isolt said through gritted teeth stepping out of his grasp, the truth was spending another moment with this craven fool made her feel sick to her stomach "I still have important business to attend to." Isolt turned, nearly running out of Lord Dargoods front gate. As she walked back to the Keep Isolts cheeks grew warm, she wondered what had been in that letter that had him so scared. If he was one of the people who were denouncing Joffrey as the King she assumed it was a threat of some sort.

Isolts brow furrowed as the sun sank into the background of the city. She glanced towards the Red Keep, pressing her lips together while making her way back.

* * *

_**(A/N: This chapter was honestly giving me some issues and turned out way longer than I originally planned. Sorry we don't see much of the Hound in this chapter. I promise you'll be seeing a lot more of him in the next few chapters. Thank you all for reading/ following/ favoriting and reviewing. I hope I can continue to write what stuff you want to read. Next chapter will be up very soon, possibly tonight.)**_


	10. Mistakes Like Fractures

The sound of his breath and the low crackle of the dimly lit brazier were the only sounds in the dead silent room. Sandor Clegane was no stranger to difficulties and the past few months had been more complicated then he preferred, but today had been particularly trying.

He had been getting used to the monotony that went along with being a Kingsguard to a boy King. Sandor had guarded the selfish little twat since he'd been shitting himself, guarding him with a fancy white cloak on was no different. That wasn't entirely true before he was a prince he had no true power. Sandor was still in no place to tell him, no, but there were others who could have. Not that they ever did, he supposed that was how the Seven Kingdoms wound up with such a twisted little cunt on the Iron Throne in the first place.

Sandor peered out the window towards the gradually dimming light that fell over Kings Landing. He grabbed the wineskin from the ring on his belt, biting off the cork and taking a healthy gulp in a swift well-practiced motion. His lips pressed into a thin line at the thought of the wretched day he'd had.

It was a typical beginning; he was summoned as the King awoke. His squire came and strapped him into his dark armor; he agreed to wear the ridiculous white cloak Sandor refused to walk around looking like a complete and utter nance in the White Cloaks scaled golden armor. Fuck that shite. It was a late start to the day, which he had no complaints about. The later he started the day the less time he'd have to spend with that miserable little twat.

Joffrey, being the nasty little cunt he was, was bored so he requested the company of his Lady to take a foul little stroll through the promenade that he had the severed heads of his enemies displayed. Joffrey had laughed and Sandor left, keeping his mouth sealed shut. It was not his place to question Kings.

He hunched forward resting his elbow on his knee after taking another swig from his wineskin.

Little Bird.

Sansa Stark…

She was a child, but it was clear she had inherited all the grace and beauty of a Tully. High cheekbones, vivid blue eyes, and sleek auburn hair; Sansa Stark was a frail delicate little thing left all alone in this den of lions. It was too bad her daddy went and got his head snipped off. The honorable Eddard Stark would never allow his daughter to marry someone as cruel as Joffrey. Fuck, if Eddard were still around that vile little cunt wouldn't even be on the throne. Stannis was a cold boring twat, but at least he had seen battle. He had some idea of what it meant to lead men, that was more than could be said for Joffrey the sniveling little cunt.

When he had arrived outside her room her door had been left wide open. He'd heard the sound of frantic sobs accompanied cutting of fabric. She'd been crying, he thought she was injured. When he'd entered the room Sansa Stark turned to him and froze wide eyed, tears streaking down her cheeks and trembling like the little bird she was. She was clutching a knife in her dainty little fingers, blood stained her nightgown; it was clear she had flowered.

Gods what he would've given to not see that. Of course, he knew it was only a matter of time before she has her first blood as well as the implications that came with it. She was still just a child in his eyes the same as Joffrey. He also hadn't expected to involved in this aspect of the young Stark girls life. Sansa didn't beg, she didn't even speak; she merely crumbled to the floor still clutching the knife in her bone white fingers and cried. Her raven-haired handmaiden tended to her while the 'Hound' had done what his masters expected of him.

He took another deep gulp from his wineskin, the business with Little Bird had been unpleasant, but he had no real choice in the matter. Sandor had tried to shield her from some of life's cruelties but there was only so much he could do without his own head meeting a spike along the outer wall of the Red Keep.

After giving Cersei the news of Sansas' first blood, he resumed with his regular duties. Joffrey wasn't all too disappointed with Sansas' absence. He decided to hold court until late afternoon, which was always insufferable for Sandor. He had stood by his side along with another one of the Kingsguard the new one, Ser Balon Swann.

Balon seemed a strong young man and Sandor considered him to be competent and honorable which was more than could be said for most knights. Swann had yet to lay a hand on Sansa Stark and until he did he would be better than his predecessor, Preston Greenfield.

It was a rather uneventful day; Ser Ilyn Payne had only brutally dismembered four people two right hands a tongue and a foot. The foot was a rather odd, punishment, but again Sandor was in no place to question Kings. He had no desire too either.

When Joffrey tired of squishing ants he had retreated to his Royal quarters Sandor and Swann alongside him. It was odd to not have at least one of the others with them, though Sandor was glad for an afternoon free of Trant and Blount. How those two became Kingsguard let alone Knights was beyond him.

That nasty business with Sansa Stark had been one thing. He felt bad for the girl but at the end of the day the Queen would've found out she had flowered one way or another. From his understanding, it seemed it would be a difficult thing to hide.

But seeing _her _like _that _in the Royal Apartments and being unable to do or even say anything about it_…_ It was almost too much to bear.

For a moment he hadn't recognized her, but he would know those eyes anywhere. Sandor had found himself searching for them more often then he cared to admit in the past few months. He knew his Songbird had been injured during the riot more then she cared to admit. Her battered face was clear confirmation of that.

He remembered everything vivid detail about her as though Songbird were there fluttering in front of him right now. A small stitch ran through her right brow and a decent sized scab rested on her temple. Deep purple bruises had set in around her stormy grey eyes from the broken nose he had suspected. Pycelle may have been a craven lying cunt of a man but he had done a damn good job setting it, though still swollen he could tell her nose was less kinked then before. His eyes had darted to the curve of her chest, he'd felt guilty for ogling her like that, but Gods was he glad he did. Her breasts were two taut mounds begging to be conquered by him.

He felt himself stir at the thought of them. Sandor knew Songbird wasn't as shapeless as she tried to appear, but he hadn't expected her to be so well proportioned. She was svelte but sturdy. Her toned arms were covered in a multitude of scars of varying levels of severity that she had no doubt obtained through numerous battles. The scars, the bruises, the wounds none of it was enough to make him lose his heightening attraction towards her.

Chestnut brown hair hung in several loose braids draped over her shoulder. Her tawny collar-bone was bare, exposing some nasty scars he had never seen before. Despite her apparent injuries Sandor had still found his eyes wandering to the swell in her chest that her typical clothes usually kept hidden. When her eyes had first found him Sandor could hardly stop himself from pressing her against the table and taking her right then and there. Though that desire had temporarily been driven to him upon remembering their present company.

He had been both alarmed and relieved when Songbird mostly sang along to the tune that Joffrey would have expected. Sandor was stunned with himself when he showed incredible restraint by not bashing Joffrey pinched little head in for even alluding a late night visit to her one of these days.

Even as she sang her songs to Joffrey songbirds eyes had kept landing on Sandor. She looked at him the way she always did. Most avoided his direct gaze, not her she commanded it and he would give her nothing less. He had wondered if it was another silent cry for help like that time in the tavern.

Was it disgusting that despite the circumstance he had still felt an ache in his loins from looking at her in that pretty little dress she had undoubtedly been forced to wear? Sandor knew she would never walk around unarmed and so vulnerable willingly. She wasn't the sharpest of mind, but when it came to weaponry and defense she kept surprising him. It had taken more restraint then he thought possible, but Sandor had been able to remain composed while seeing her like that. He couldn't very well go pawing at her after how he had acted towards her following the riot. He hadn't heard anything himself, but he could only imagine there were nasty rumors about him taking her to bed. Songbird was pretty, but she was just another woman. He had told himself that over and over since meeting her and yet, he still found himself helping her.

Sandor couldn't deny the blood that had continued to rush to his groin long after he had seen her like that. Even just thinking back on her now excited him. He had been thankful for his armor and annoyed that Jofrrey had not dismissed him earlier. He'd stood outside Joffrey's room for what felt hours, wanting nothing more than to tend to his itch. By the time Blount came to relieve him, Sandor was close to boiling over. He sat alone on his bed draining the rest of his wineskin with a sharp sigh. Tonight he needed more then his hand could do.

It was nearly sunset when he made his way towards the Street of Silks. There was still a curfew in place, not that it mattered to him. Sandor was Kingsguard even if he was no one dared to tell him no; aside from _her,_ of course.

When he reached the brothel, Sandor clutched his coin purse. He still had a lot left over from the 40,000 Gold Dragons he had won at the Hand of the Kings tourney. Nearly a year had passed and he had made only a small dent in his earnings. He had paid 25 Gold Dragons for his black courser; Stranger. The rest he had lost track of. He would drink, and sometimes let out poison in one of the finer establishments of Kings Landing where a few Gold Dragons bought him all the sex and booze he could possibly want. Sandor was a man, but he took no joy in fucking women who were dead in the eyes. Not that any of them ever looked at him. They would sing their pretty little songs and writhe their bodies against his they way they were expected too, but Sandor was no fool. No woman in her right mind would ever willingly bed him, Gregor had ensured that the day he pressed his face to the fire.

Sandor arrived at the Peach, a whorehouse he had been to several times in the past. The headmistresses stiffened as her eyes fell on him. He knew that look he saw in the eyes of every woman whos eyes dared to fall on him; fear, disgust abhorrence. Everyone had that look in there eyes when they found him, except for Songbird, she had never looked at him with such disdain. She would glare and scowl and shout but it felt different. She was showing contempt for his actions, not him.

The headmistress cleared her throat, gaining his attention. Before the woman could speak he pulled out a handful of coins from his pouch. Her eyes lit up at the 5 Gold Dragons he held towards her.

"Welcome back, we're so glad to see you again. It's been far too long. Shall I bring in the auburn-haired ones for you? The girls with light eyes? I have a pretty little thing_"

"No, I want a brunette." Sandor rasped. The woman quirked a brow before nodding, she led him to a large empty room and beckoned him to sit down on the bed. Sandor waved her off, he much preferred standing. "Eyes like a storm." She paused for a moment in the doorway pressing her hand to her mouth as she thought.

"I believe I have just what you're looking for Ser…" His stomach churned when she called him 'Ser'. He highly doubted she would have anything close to what he wanted, but whatever she did have would have to do.

He made his way to the table and poured himself a cup of wine. Sandor shut his eyes while quickly draining the glass. It was good wine, very high quality not that it mattered much to him. As long as it would get him drunk, he was content. Sandor had three more glasses before the headmistress returned with several brown haired women.

Some were younger then he would have preferred some much older. Before he stood a line of pretty little birds, had he seen them months ago Sandor was sure he would've been more than pleased with any one of them. As he had expected not one whore lifted their gaze to meet him. The all stood, quivering in fear with their eyes fixed on the ground before them. This was how it always was. He always imagined the great relief of the other women who he didn't choose. Sandors disappointment mounted as he inspected them, none were anything like Songbird. The one who was the right height was too curvy with a nose that was slightly too small for her face. The girl who was the right height was far too slender; she looked as though she would blow away with the smallest breeze.

Towards the middle was one woman who was almost passable. The hair wasn't quite right, an ashen brown instead of a chestnut, but it draped over her shoulder in soft waves the same way he imagined songbirds would've had it not been kept in braids. She had icy blue eyes that in this dim light could almost be considered grey. Sandor sighed, it seemed this would be the closest he would get.

"Leave us." He commanded with a dismissive wave, the other women ran out of the room so fast one might think there was a fire. The girl he selected stayed frozen in place her eyes fixed downward. Sandor drained his cup once more and made his way to the bed. He wondered what Songbird would say if she saw him right now. No doubt she would mock him. She always did like to have her little jokes. A ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips, a smile that soured as soon as his selected whore came into view. He brought his hand towards her, running his fingers through her curly tresses. It was much smoother then he imagined songbirds would be.

The woman cringed under his touch, Sandor quickly drew his hand back and glared down at her. The women took a step back, keeping her gaze meekly glued to the ground.

"Would you like wine milord?" She asked softly, Sandors eyes snapped shut at her gratingly weak voice. That was all wrong too, he longed for Songbirds confident, sincere voice. Sandor nodded, the girl shot towards the table before pouring a glass. Sandor felt contempt brew in him, even from across the room he could the whore trembling. He had no doubt the girl thought he was going to brutalize her. Other men in the Kingsguard undoubtedly had before, why wouldn't a mean looking fucker like him do the same?

He snatched the cup from her shaking hand, draining it in one gulp. The woman let out a nervous laugh and sat timidly beside him for a moment before placing her hand on his lap. His member, which had been aching all day, seemed to shrink in an instant under her frail dainty touch.

"Don't fucking touch me until I tell you too," He snapped, far more harshly then he had intended, her eyes grew wide with fear as she quickly withdrew her hand. "More wine, just bring the bloody pitcher." Sandor sighed. She nearly ran to heed his order, before she could pour anything he snatched the pitcher from her hand and began to drink directly from it. She went slack-jawed, Sandor imagined she viewed him as some sort of animal with the way he was behaving. Not that it mattered; he was just a nasty old dog after all.

He was paying good gold for this whore, he would be damned if he didn't get some relief from this. Sandor nearly drained the pitcher before slamming it on the nightstand beside the bed.

"Alright get on with it." The womans' shaking hand made its way towards his groin once more. Sandor shut his eyes trying to imagine her delicate grasp belonged to someone else. Though that was more difficult then he had anticipated. His songbird wasn't a frail coward like this woman. She looked him in the eyes when they spoke; when she grasped at something she did it with a purpose. He pushed his thoughts of her further, trying to imagine the taught breasts that lay beneath the bodice he had seen her in.

He stayed limp even as the whore took him into her mouth. Sandor reached for the pitcher once more and continued to drink as the whore halfheartedly bobbed her head up and down moaning softly as she did so. Lies, all of it. How dare this slut sit there and pretend to enjoy it. The more noises she made the more rage filled him. As he continued to remain soft the whore stopped glancing up towards Sandor, fixing her gaze just past him.

"Do I not please you, milord?" He glowered down at her. She was just the same as everyone else looking past him not at him. A sudden sense of disgust filled him as he quickly rose from the bed, shoving the girl from his path.

"No, you don't." Her brow furrowed in confusion, he supposed she thought it odd that a man with a face like his would be this picky. She quickly shook herself from her thoughts and lunged towards him nearly grasping his dingy white cloak. Sandor turned and scowled down at her.

"Wait! Where are you going it's alright I can_"

"Shut up whore, you'll still get your coin." He snapped, throwing two gold on the floor beside her before storming out.

"Ser has she_"

"Fuck off." He slurred while stumbling out of the establishment, frustrated he was still feeling an ache in his loins. He was embarrassed, it wasn't often he found himself unable to perform even when he drank a great deal he had always been able to maintain himself while with a whore. Sandor tried to convince himself that to much wine was the reason for remaining flaccid even as the pretty young girl took his cock into her mouth. The sun had already set when he left the brothel, he was thankful for the streets due to the new curfew. Sandor stewed as he returned towards the keep. It seemed his hand and thoughts of Songbirds' bosom would be his only company tonight after all.

"I'm no whore you fool, now step aside. I told you to step aside, now release me before you do something you'll really regret." Sandors ears perked up, he'd recognize that fierce tone anywhere.

"You're in no position to talk to us that way,"

"No wonder you look the way you do. You sure are mouthy for a whore. You're lucky I don't kill you where you stand for breaking curfew you cheeky little bitch."

Clegane approached from behind, Songbird was still wearing her pretty little dress. He felt the fabric of his trousers tighten once more at the sight of her, all he could think was how thankful he as for not removing his armor earlier. The closer he got to her the more he sensed something was wrong. Her braids were disheveled and judging by the rapid rising and falling of her shoulders she was out of breath. Without thinking, Sandor grasped her shoulder in his hand. She glanced over at him, her stormy gray eyes seemed to soften upon seeing his face. His lips twitched into a brief smile as he felt her body relax under his grasp. His face quickly fell as he noticed her eyes were wet and heavy as she stared up at him, it seemed she was fighting back tears.

"She's with me." The men lowered their gaze and let them pass without another word. "Come on hurry along inside Songbird." He walked behind her, enjoying the way her hips swayed when she walked, but also noticing a grimace with each step she took. After following behind in silence for some time Sandor had enough of this nonsense. He pressed her towards the wall like he had so many times before; surprised she didn't fight the way she usually did. As he looked at her in the torchlight he noticed deep crimson seeping through the fabric of her dress and the faint trail of blood that followed her. Sandor removed his grasp from her and took a step back

His heart sank with her gaze; his Songbird only looked away when something was wrong and she was too proud to admit it. He glanced to the ground near where she stood, taking in the slowly accumulating puddle of blood at her right foot. His expression hardened as her eyes stayed fixed on the ground just beyond her. She was bleeding but acting as though she were fine. Even if Songbird were a good liar, which she wasn't, it was plain to see she was freshly injured.

"I suppose I should say thank you for having them let me into the Keep." Sandor stepped towards her without thinking, his arm outstretched. Her dark brow furrowed slightly as she deftly stepped out of his grasp. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to get you somewhere more private." After the words left his lips he was aware of what that sentence may've been interpreted as. Though _that _wasn't his primary reason, he certainly wouldn't say no to it. Not with her, especially since the whore back at the brothel had failed to soothe his ache.

"Wh-Why?" Her voice cracked, his face dropped at the sound of it. Of course, she wouldn't let him have her in that way, of course, he could always force himself on her. She was a fighter, but she stood no chance against him. He felt a pang in his gut at the thought. That wasn't the way he wanted to have her.

His brow furrowed as he glanced down at her unusually pale and trembling form. Sandor pressed towards her, songbird pushed her back to the wall. He leaned in close to her, the sweet smell of lilac filling his nose as he reached for her skit. She stiffened, clasping her hand over his. Sandor raised a brow, while she shook her head ever so slightly. He ignored her silent plea and hiked up the hem keeping his eyes locked with hers as he did so. His expression hardened when he saw a dagger had been firmly embedded into her smooth thigh. Streams of blood stained her leg. Sandor shut his eyes for a moment before releasing the fabric from his grasp. Only she would go strutting about with a dagger sticking out of her and act as though everything was ok.

"I know pain when I see it Songbird." Without another word he scooped her up and placed her over his shoulder. She winced then stiffened for a moment under his grip, but she didn't fight him. She remained silent as he carried her through the dark castle halls towards the White Sword Tower where his room resided.

* * *

_**(A/N: I found it ironic that someone expressed interest during the last chapter of knowing what Sandors thoughts were considering this was the next chapter I had planned. Took me a bit longer than expected considering it takes both elements of Isolts last chapter and her next one, there were a lot of small details I wanted to make sure I got right. Thank you for your continued love and support. I appreciate every one of you who continue to read/follow/favorite and review. Now I know I always say this but I really mean it this time, the next chapter should be up super soon (considering I was doing a lot of work on this one and the next one simultaneously). Also for those of you who like this chapters title I kinda (maybe) stole it from a song I'm currently obsessed with (doesn't have much to do with the story at all, but it's still a good song) It's by a band called Knocked Loose if you feel so inclined to check it out.) **_


	11. What Pride Had Wrought

Darkness had taken the city and it was now past curfew. She was much to frustrated and embarrassed to admit it, but she had become slightly turned around after leaving Lord Dargoods estate. She felt stupid for allowing the Queen to send her on such a silly errand while looking as ridiculous as she did in the first place. Isolt was not a particularly prideful woman when it came to her looks, but no woman alive enjoyed being openly mocked over things such as her appearance. Her expression hardened while making her way towards the Keep.

The curfew had thankfully kept people off the streets; the only thing she needed to worry about would be running into someone from the City Watch. Isolt knew she didn't look like herself; it would likely take some convincing to get them to escort her back to the keep rather than execute her on site as they had been commanded to do with anyone caught wandering the streets past curfew.

As she continued walking Isolt noticed the soft echo of footsteps following her. She shut her eyes tightly hoping she was just being overly paranoid. There was no reason for one of that Lords hired men to follow her this far especially not alone. He had invited her into his home; he looked, as though he pitied her he would have no reason for sending a man to kill her.

Isolt continued forward as though she had noticed nothing. She turned into a darkened alley, placing her hands where her daggers usually sat. Her heart dropped when she remembered she had left the Keep unarmed. Isolt turned another corner, pressing her back to the wall waiting for her stalkers inevitable approach.

"I must say, I almost didn't recognize you. The reports said nothing about you dressing as a woman now." Recognition dawned on her face, followed by a fleeting look of all-consuming terror. She was defenseless and alone; though at least she wasn't drunk this time. "It was shocking to see you have such a nice body, I don't understand why you usually keep it buried underneath all those leathers of yours."

"Don't take another step." She snapped. She had no weapons, but _he _didn't necessarily know that. Not yet at least.

The man halted for a moment she could see a small grin tugging at the corners of his hairless face through the shadows.

"Vyrenno sends his regards." Isolts stomach churned at the mention of him. It had been years since she had seen him, but even just the mere mention of his name still filled her with the same amount of disgust and dread that it had nearly seven years ago when she left. "I was surprised to hear what became of Gidon." She scowled over at him as he took a few cautious steps towards her. "Heard he was butchered, that was never your style." The man began to walk towards her, "You were never the type to be so heavy-handed. That sounded like a man's work to me. Where is the lucky man?"

"Fuck off, I would hate to do the same to you." Isolt tensed as he laughed for a moment before raising his daggers in response.

"When I heard about how he nearly cut in half, I knew you must've lured some other fool under your spell." Isolts stomach churned, she had never lured anyone a day in her life. Whatever man did or didn't fancy her did so under their own volition. "Though I'll give credit where it's due, I believe I heard he had a stab wound to the head. Now that must've been hard. Not only just physically but emotionally. How did it feel killing Gidon? I do remember you two being rather close before you ran off." Isolt clenched her jaw. He was trying to get a rise out of her.

"You don't have to do this Hagor." She pleaded it was best to ignore his attempt to anger her. "We both know you can easily go back and tell him_"

"I follow the orders given to me without question. I'm not craven like you." Isolt raised her chin to him, balling her hands into fists.

"So I'm cowardly am I?"

"Aye, it appears I was right about you all along." Isotl scoffed at his response before spitting at the ground. "I always told them you had the weak sensibilities of a woman. Vyrenno should've sold you straight to a whorehouse instead of arming you. Your place is on your back, not playing at wars."

"Fuck you, what bravery is needed to slaughter a room of babes at their mothers' breast? You weren't there."

"Aye, I wasn't there. You'd have been dead If I had been they would have been too." Hagor took a step closer, blades pointed at her "Actually now that I think on it. they _were_ quite dead when I went back and finished _your_ contract."

"You always were a disgusting piece of shit." A chill ran down her spine as bile pressed at the back of her throat. It seemed Hagor was just as unagreeable as she remembered.

"And you always were a pathetic cunt." Hagors nostrils flared, his mouth twisting into a sick smile. The two locked eye for a moment before he lunged towards her. Isolt managed to step out of his grasp, her back brushing against the wall. He pounced towards her again, his blade just barely missing her shoulder. Isolt kneed Hagor in the stomach in a moment of desperation, he crunched over for a moment before shooting up his elbow making contact with her nose. Isolt grunted, pain flashing through her already swollen face while raising a hand to cover it.

"Tyrion Lannister employs me now you stupid..fucking.. arsehole," Isolt began slightly out of breath from their brief tussle. She didn't want to involve Tyrion, but he himself had offered to help, she was confident he wouldn't throw it in her face. It seemed she would just have to hope the news never made it's way back to Bronn. "I have a steady job now I'll be able to pay the gold for breaking contract, 10,00 gold right?"

"The first year it was 10,000 Gold Dragons." Hagor began while adjusting his grip on his dagger "The year after it increased to 30,000. Let's see it's been seven years now right? I believe now you're round about 190,000. Vyrenno was very upset, especially after you turned down his initial offer. He's bee adding special interest to that debt of yours." Hagor charged forward, Isolt wasn't fast enough to evade his reach this time. She grimaced as his dagger stuck into the back of her right thigh. He smirked grimly at her suppressed whimpers. Isolt glowered at his shadowed visage in the darkness, her eyes blurring slightly as she fought back tears of pain. It was clear Hagor was unwilling to reasonable and speak so she would hear no more from him, without warning she reached forward managing to seize the spare knife that dangled from his belt. Hagor tried to move out of her path, but not before Isolt deeply caught his right shoulder with her newly found blade. His mouth set into a hard line, "That was a mistake you miserable cunt." Hagor spat through gritted teeth.

"No, it wasn't" He went to stab her once more, only to find his right arm hanging uselessly at his side. His eyes widened as he realized she has sliced a tendon that had caused him to drop his primary blade. "I'm afraid you'll find that arm quite useless now. Even if you make it out of this alive, which you won't, I doubt it'll ever be the same. I suppose I should thank you. After all, it was you who taught me the best places the slice someone."

"You fucking bitch, I'll kill you." Isolt shook her head, as she slowly reached towards Hagor. He went to strike her with the dagger in his left hand but it was too little too late. She once considered Hagor had once been considered one of the most impressive fighters. She never would've expected a day would come where she could beat him, but it seemed he had gotten slow in his old age. Isolt locked eyes with him for a moment while sliding the dagger across his throat. She watched him drop to the ground before she went to crouch down beside him only to be halted by a sharp flash of pain from her right thigh. Isolt winced as her finger found the hilt of the blade that was still embedded in her. She frowned down at Hagor until his panicked gurgling ceased. He had been a mentor of hers but it didn't make him any more likable. Isolt was glad she at least had the chance to kill a man as vile as him. Isolt kept his stolen knife clutched in her bloodstained hand as she limped back to the Keep.

Each step was excruciating, but Isolt pressed on. If she removed the dagger here there was a chance she could bleed to death. She was no stranger to injuries of this nature and Isolt was certainly no medic, but she knew if the bleeding was as bad as she assumed it would be she would need to apply a lot of pressure of she hoped to impede the bleeding. That wasn't something she could do while walking back to the Keep. Isolt forces the entire dagger under the fabric of her dress. To her relief, the darkness and fabric of her new, torn gown seemed to obscure her wounds and the knife almost entirely. When she reached the outer gates of the Red Keep her heart soared. Making it back was half the battle. As far as she was concerned she was almost out of the woods.

"Where do you think you're going? Don't you know there's a curfew in effect?" A man with a golden cloak said while blocking her entrance. Isolt glared up at him silently "None of us ordered a whore." Isolt scowled up at him.

"I'm no whore you fool, now step aside." Isolt went to brush him aside only to have him grasp her wrist tightly in his hand. "I told you to step aside, now release me before you do something you'll really regret."

"You're in no position to be speaking to us that way," He looked her over his expression hard as a rock.

"No wonder you look the way you do. You sure are mouthy for a whore. You're lucky I don't kill you where you stand for breaking curfew you cheeky little bitch."

Isolt went to lunge forward but found herself firmly held in place by a large hand that now grasped her shoulder. She glanced over her shoulder, ready to assess the threat. Her expression immediately softened at the sight of Clegane. She let out a soft shaky sigh trying her best to fight back tears. It didn't matter whether they were tears from pain or relief she wouldn't allow herself to crumble like that. Not in front of him. Not ever. His eyes fell on her the corner of his lips lifting for a brief moment before he scowled towards the two guardsmen.

"She's with me." Isolt blinked dumbly when both men did as he ordered. All it took was three words from him and she was let inside without another word of objection from those two louts. That was the Hound barking at them after all, most men with any sense feared him and with good reason too "Come on hurry along inside Songbird," Clegane demanded. Isolt followed behind, doing her best to hide her limp from him. She saw him look back at her his expression hardening, she had no doubt he noticed. He pressed her towards the wall but for whatever reason, he remained quiet. As he held her bare shoulder in his calloused hand, her gaze lowered. She didn't want him helping her again, she was sure he viewed her as a useless fool at this point.

"I suppose I should say thank you for having them let me into the Keep_," He said nothing just dove forward, Isolt managed to step from his lumbering grasp "What are you doing?" Isolt leered up at him.

"Trying to get you somewhere more private" Her face went red at his words. He was clearly drunk, but it seemed out of character for him to be so forward about wanting to bed her.

"Wh-Why?" Her voiced wobbled. Maybe he had no intention to bed her at all. In fact, maybe he hadn't even noticed her limp. As Isolt tried to convince herself of the many things his actions and words could have meant Clegane watched her in silence.

His forehead creased while stopping to take a quick glance around, ensuring no one else was there. She froze as he locked his bloodshot eyes with her for a moment. The stench of wine emanated from him. Isolt shook her head while opening her mouth to object, he ignored her reaching down and slowly pulling the hem of her dress up. Isolt placed her hand on top of his hoping it would be enough to stop him. She glowered at the ground as he revealed the dagger sticking out from the back of her left thigh. He scrutinized her wound for a moment before releasing the fabric from his grasp. She withdrew her hand to her side, keeping her gaze fixed downward frustrated he had seen right through her yet again.

"I know pain when I see it Songbird." Without asking he scooped her up in his arm, slinging her over his shoulder as easily as someone would do with a sack of flour. Isolts' lower lip quivered, she felt completely helpless and humiliated, but she didn't fight him. She was also still was unsure of the Cleganes reasoning behind all of this which unsettled her immensely.

Isolt remained silent as he approached the White Sword Tower. He paused a few times in the hallways and while making his way upstairs before they stopped at a door towards the middle of the tower. Sandor fumbled with the door for a moment before shoving it open and entering into a dimly lit room. Isolt glanced over at the nearly dead fire that lay in the hearth, her nose scrunched up at overwhelming stench of booze that permeated the air. Clegane kicked his door shut behind them and stumbled towards the canopied bed that occupied to the center of his modestly sized bedroom before gently laying Isolt down on her stomach. He sighed while moving a brazier beside the bed and lighting it. Isolt watched as a brief look of fear flashed across his face as the flames took. She had heard the story of his scar from Tyrion, it seemed only normal he would have an aversion to flames. Isolt pressed her lips together, knowing it was best to act as though she hadn't noticed a thing.

"Can't say I ever expected to see you like this." Isolt buried her face into his sheets, hoping he hadn't seen her face flush red.

"What with a dagger in the thigh? It isn't the first time I've been stabbed and I'm sure it won't be the last." She muttered into the pillow, she peered up from the pillow at a loud clang as Clegane threw his gauntlets onto the floor with a small scowl spread across his face.

"You know what I bloody meant." He pulled the blade from her flesh without warning. Isolt grunted, trying her best to hold back a scream as she felt the blood flowing down her thigh. "The Queen won't be happy that you've already soiled the pretty little dress she gave you." Her brows drew together as she watched him from over her shoulder.

"The Queen can go fuck herself." He gave a lopsided grin; Isolt felt her irritation dissipate for a moment and she looked up at him. She faced away from him pressing her face into his pillow once more. She wanted to deal with this issue on her own, yet here she was helpless and bleeding on his bed. He could've fucked her bloody if he felt so inclined. She was honestly surprised and slightly insulted he hadn't already.

"I can't say I'm surprised the guards didn't recognize you dressed the way you are. Fuck, I hardly recognized you for a moment." Sandor said while ripping a strip of clothe from his soiled white cloak. She grimaced slightly as he tightly wrapped it around her wound. Isolt glanced over her shoulder once more arching a brow up at him.

"What gave me away Clegane?"

"The bruises and scars for one," He tied off the cloth much too tightly before pressing his hand on the wound in an attempt to slow the blood flow. "I've never seen a woman look so out of place in a skirt." Isolts stomach sank at the mention of her injuries. She had a feeling Clegane had thought she looked ridiculous just as everyone else seemed to; though the confirmation of this wounded her ego more then she had expected. "Those blustery eyes of yours betrayed you too. You may be dressed up to look like a pretty songbird so you could sing your pretty little songs to the Queen but we both know you're cut from a different cloth than most women." She crinkled her nose as he brushed his finger along the scar that ran across the bridge of it.

"Why are you helping me?" Her eyes glistened as she continued to fight back tears. She wouldn't let him see her cry. Nothing good ever came from crying, her father and brother had made sure she learned that much ages ago.

"Most would say thank you and shut the fuck up about it," His jaw clenched as he withdrew his hand from her. His face hardened as he looked at her freshly wrapped wound. "You're losing too much blood Songbird. This needs stitching Gods know I'm shite at that I suppose I should have just brought you to Pycelle to start." Isolts eyes darted desperately around the room. She had already been seeing Pycelle for the wounds she had acquired during the riot, she was indifferent towards the man but him stitching her wound would mean this injury would back to Tyrion and Bronn. Clegane bent over to pick her up once more "Let's go_"

"No!" Isolt squirmed from his grasp his brows pressed together in pure confusion. "I can't see him for this… If Pycelle knows then Cersei will know. I'm sure Tyrion would find out sooner or later as well and if Tyrion finds out I'm sure it's only a matter of time until he runs off and tells Bronn… I know it seems stupid for you, but I have my reasons for wanting to keep it from him" Isolt said realizing pride was the biggest of those reasons, a grimace crossing her face at the realization of what needed to be done. "Give me the dagger. Take off the dressing," The Hound handed it to her, a queer look spreading across his features as she leaned towards the brazier letting the flames lick against Hagors blade for a little while letting the metal heat. He untied her freshly dressed wound. Isolt cringed as she saw his once white cloak was now stained with her blood "Take the knife…" She said before a small nervous laugh slipped through her lips. "Take it and press it against the wound."

"Fuck off_"

"I cannot see Pycelle for this and it's hard to reach by myself, even if I could I know the pain to well and don't think I could follow through…. Don't make me beg Clegane. You've helped me without reason before. Help me again and I swear I will do anything for you that is within my power."

"Anything?" Isolt pressed her mouth into a straight line before giving him a sharp nod. The corners of his lips twitched into a fleeting smile at this.

"Yes anything, I don't care you need only name it. I..." Isolt shut her eyes, embarrassed she was actually admitting this "I need you."

His expression hardened. There were no more words, he merely slid a pillow closer towards her. He snatched the blade from her hand before forcing Isolts' head down. She bit down as he pressed the heated metal to the back of her thigh. He firmly held her head down as she cried the pillow muffling her screams ever so slightly. Isolt had jolted at the initial impact of searing heat touching a sensitive part of her flesh, but Clegane merely pressed his forearm into her back just firmly enough to keep her from falling off the bed. When she felt him lift his weight from her Isolt immediately jerked away from him slightly. She lifted her face keeping it obscured from him as she wiped the wetness from her cheeks. She glanced up at him trembling slightly as he violently threw the knife into the corner of the room. He sat stewing in silence, his eyes fixed on the nights' sky that lay outside. Isolt reached her shaking hand towards his arm, he didn't move even as she gripped him tightly.

"Wine please." She shifted her hand downwards reaching for his belt. He cocked his head towards her, his lips twisting downward as he studied her face for a moment. He turned his head from her while removing his wineskin and thrusting it wordlessly into her hands. Isolt took a deep gulp before pouring it over her fresh burn. She tried her best to steady her hands as she shuddered from the sting of it, "Have you anything else to cover it with?" He said nothing. Simply he tore another strip from his dingy white cloak and began to wrap her leg once more. It wasn't ideal, but it would do for now. She still had healing balm from Maester Pycelle for the wound to her temple. Her hands continued to shake as she took another deep gulp before passing it back to Clegane. Isolt kept her eyes focused on the fire, her vision blurry from pain. She quickly wiped the tears from her cheeks hoping he hadn't noticed as she heard him take a deep gulp before passing it back to her.

"Keep it, Gods know you need it more than I do right now." He sighed before pushing himself off from the bed and making his way towards the edge of his room. Isolt rolled on her back keeping her gaze fixed upward while trying her best to keep her fresh wound from making contact with his bed. "Are you ready to tell me who these men are that are trying to kill you?" Isolts expression hardened at his question. He stared at her expectantly while unhooking his belt.

"They'll stop soon, they always do."

"Oh they do, do they? I suppose having them after you is a normal occurrence then? You really are a crazy bitch you know that?" Isolt watched as he began unfastening the straps and buckles that held his jet black armor in place over his chest. She cast her eyes to the ground just as the metallic clang of his brigandine hitting the ground filled the room. Clegane began grunting slightly as he bent over with his arms overhead, letting his dark, oiled mail slip from his form hitting the floor with a light tink.

"It happens in waves, they usually have more time in between sending another man, but I suppose since they know I'm stationary now they're coming at me with all they've got."

"Who the fuck is 'they'" He straightened up and her eyes found him again, her cheeks flushed red at the clear sight of him. She had never seen him without armor and she had always assumed he was toned, but his muscles were more impressive then she had originally anticipated. Isolt found herself staring at his broad strong chest and strong arms for longer then she cared to admit. The thought of him taking her into those arms set a small flutter in her stomach. He loosened the collar of his dark olive green tunic while making his way towards his bed. "Well?" He said, snapping her back into reality. Isolt shook her head slightly. He sat, then crouched over, unbuckling his dark greaves and tossing them towards the rest of his armor. She felt her cheeks warm once more as she realized he was almost as exposed and vulnerable as her now.

"A mercenary group based in Essos. I'd rather not talk about it" The words left her lips without much thought.

"Essos?" He said seemingly shocked by her having ever been there before. Isolt shut her eyes with a sharp sigh, wanting him to just drop the subject entirely.

"Yes, Essos I traveled there a while back while I was on the road with Bronn."

"Then why the fuck are they only trying to kill you then?" Isolt sighed casting her gazed away from him. Her breath caught in her throat as he cupped her left cheek in her hand. She felt her cheeks grow warm under his calloused fingers. "Look at me Songbird." Isolt relented, glancing over at him from under her lashes. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, brows knit, lips pulled into a soft frown. She let out a sharp sigh, leaning into his hand for a moment before resting her head back onto the pillow. His fingers left her face as she glowered up at the red canopy that hung above them.

"We aren't connected at the side you know… There were times when Bronn and I weren't traveling together. When we first arrived in Essos we…." Isolts eyes clenched shut, it was embarrassing thinking how much trouble she had landed herself in on account of her pride. " We fought, as we so often do. I was still young, only several years older than Sansa is now, I was just barely a woman grown. After we had gone our separate ways I wound up in Braavos, when he wound up, fuck I don't know somewhere else or served so Lord or Merchant it doesn't bloody matter. I assume he may've joined one of those other groups as a freelancer. I had been traveling with that areshole for nearly ten years, I didn't know how to survive completely on my own. While I was alone in Braavos I joined a mercenary group myself. They call themselves Company of the Cat." Isolt tensed as the room fell silent. She narrowed her eyes, anger welling in her chest, as Clegane laughed a deep throaty chuckle.

"Sounds like a group of bloody nances."

"They aren't! They're a group of ruthless murders, they're numbers hit nearly 2,000 when I left them."

"Wouldn't have gotten all that from such a girly name."

"Fuck you, they _are _powerful and their leader Bloodbeard is a cruel and vicious man. Thankfully I never had to deal with him personally."

"If they're so bloody powerful why would you do something stupid like deserting. I'm assuming that's what you've done. Why else would the be after you? Even still seems a lot of effort for just one girl."

Isolt furrowed her brow, pressing her lips together into a small frown.

"I suppose you could call it deserting. Though I prefer not to think about it like that..."

"Aren't you supposed to be some big scary mercenary Songbird? I thought you said nothing scared you before? What made you go craven?" Her heart sank. Him calling her craven hurt worse than any knife ever could.

"I didn't go craven you arsehole!" She snapped while sitting up and glaring at him "I'm a sell-sword but that doesn't make me a fucking monster, I have my standards Clegane as I would hope you do. They asked me to do something deplorable, something _he _knew I would refuse. I broke my contract by not carrying out the task that was assigned. I didn't have the money to pay the gold price for my failure and I refused my Lieutenants other terms of payment. Like I said, even people like you and I need some sort of standards. I thought I could work for Tyrion for a bit and make enough gold to send back so they could lift the bounty they have on me… But now the price has become absolutely absurd."

"What price would that be?"

"190,000 gold dragons." His jaw went slack, "Apparently they've been tacking on a hefty interest with each year I've been gone." Clegane shook his head before snatching his wineskin back from Isolt and taking a few gulps. She watched as he drained it before tossing it on the floor beside his brigandine. He pressed his hand to his forehead, shaking his head slightly with a low chuckle.

"You sound completely and utterly fucked if you ask me Songbird."

"I'm not." Isolt leaned towards him a small scowl playing across her features.

"Oh, but you are. If I understand you, which I think I do, a group consisting of thousands of men want you dead. I doubt they'll stop until they receive word your dead. If you owe that much money there no doubt your head will fetch a high bounty. To make matters worse you're trying to do it alone like the crazy bitch you are. So what do you plan on killing the entire company?" Another laugh slipped from his lips.

"I've been fine so far." Her jaw clenched. "As long as they don't send everyone at once it's nothing I can't handle." Rage flashed across Clegane face as he leaned forward, grabbing her shoulders in his hands.

"You call getting slashed across the throat fine? How about this?" He grabbed a meaty part of her leg just below where she had been cut. Isolt winced slightly for a moment before he quickly loosened his grip. "How many more times can you get slashed and stabbed before it kills you?" Isolts heart began to pound through her chest as he continued, "Don't be fucking stupid. You're _not_ fine, only bloody lucky. While you're stuck here in this shite hole of a city you're completely fucked and you know it as well as I do. I can't stand by your side killing every stupid fucker that tries to kill you. Just swallow your pride and tell your cousin, he's Commander of the City Watch now ain't he? Your best bet now is to have a guard with you day and night otherwise the next dagger that finds you might be through your heart."

"No that's impossible I could never tell him. Bronn has no idea about them I intend to keep it that way. I never asked you to protect me Clegane and I certainly don't expect it from you or anyone else." Isolt tried to wrench herself from his grip and push herself from his bed but suddenly felt very weak under his hold. Isolts eyes widened as he lightly began tracing his fingers along her leg down towards her calf and back up again. "What are you doing?"

"Are you forgetting your promise." Her jaw went slack at his comment. She glanced towards the ground, his massive hand making its way above her knee. "You said if I helped you you'd do anything I ask of you. I never thought you to be a liar Songbird. We both know you're very poor at it."

"I'm not a liar you just never said what you wanted from me." He stayed his hand only inches from her warmth his eyes studying her form. Isolt suddenly became very aware of the cool nights' air effect on her hardened nipples, she went to cover her breasts with her arm. Clegane caught it with his other hand, before pressing her onto her back. She pursed her lips his gaze clinging to the body that lay beneath her bloodied dress.

He shifted beside her, running a calloused finger along her arm up and across her collarbone. Isolt shut her eyes as his hands found her chest. He pressed her down shifting his full weight on top of her. His fingers grazed her breast before stopping at a scar that marked her collarbone. Isolt brought her arms to his chest, try and push him off, but her body froze upon feeling the toned muscle that lay beneath the olive tunic he wore.

"Don't look away."

"What do you want from me."

"I said fucking look at me!" Isolts jaw dropped as he commanded her attention. Her eyes shot open, and she gazed up at him from under her lashes. "Gods knows you're the only one who ever does." His voice cracked. Isolt dare not move her widened eyes from him His mouth twitched into a momentary smile as they continued to lock eyes. "Am I frightening you Songbird?" Isolt gawked up at him for a moment as he continued to graze her collar bone with his fingers. She pressed her thighs together, trying to fight the warmth building between her legs.

"Never." His brow raised at her response, he turned his head from her for a moment, but for a brief second, she swore the corners of his lips quirk up. Clegane turned his face towards her, his mouth set in a hard line. He moved his hand down from her collar bone towards her breast once more. Isolt quickly shifted her hand on top of his. He paused his brows knitting slightly before moving his fingers towards her scared collar bone one more. Isolt sighed moving her hands to her sides and pressing her palms against the bed.

"You've got a lot of scars…Like this one." His expression closes up as he brushed his finger across her collarbone once more. Isolt felt goosebumps cover her flesh at his touch. She shook her head slightly, bringing herself back to her senses.

"I got that in Essos. I was on a mission to eliminate some merchant. His guard was some fat old fuck, kind of looked like Blount now that I think about it. Anyway, I got cocky and let my guard down. I managed to slit the bastard's throat but not before he gave me a nice slice. It was a bleeder that one." She said with a forced laugh. Clegane said nothing only moved his fingers to one that sat on her right shoulder, "Some bastard nearly took my arm off with an ax with that one. I remember the smell of it was nearly enough to turn you off of food. It almost festered, that would've been bloody awful. People already think I'm useless twat imagine how they'd feel if I only had one arm." He remained silent, brushing his thumb across the scar that ran across the bridge of her nose. She silently pushed his hand away that was a scar she preferred not to think of.

"You're more useful than most Songbird." Isolt felt the corners of her lips tug into a smile."A song." He said quietly "I want to hear the rest of that song you were signing to that stupid fucker, you called him Gidon."

Isolt blinked up at him, it appeared he had heard more of her conversation with Gidon that night then she had initially thought. As she looked him over a deep sadness overtook her. Isolt placed her hand in his, gently giving it a squeeze. There was a moment before he grasped hers in return.

"That's a sad fucking song you've asked for Clegane. I don't like singing sad fucking songs." He brushed his thumb along the back of her hand gently.

"Aye, it seemed sad, but I liked the sound of it coming from your lips. I never heard it before that night, I want to hear the rest."

"Surely you have something else you'd rather ask from me. My voice is fine enough from drunkards in a tavern but_"

"Your voice is plenty pretty." He slurred, his cold eyes taking her in once more. "Come on then, let's hear it." Isolt froze for a moment, her eyes dropping to the floor, "No, keep your eyes on me." She quirked a brow but complied.

"_The day they hanged Black Robin_

_The air was clear and still_

_The day they hanged Black Robin_

_The autumn ground was chill_

_The small folk gathered in the square_

_The gallows there were set_

_The small folk gathered in the square_

_The women never wept_.

_The Gods above all knew his crimes_

_The Lord read off his list_

_The Gods above all knew his crimes_

_The mens hands balled into fists _

_His legs they kicked they jerked then slowed_

_The crowd not once did cheer_

_His legs they slowed then finally stopped_

_The crowd not once did jeer_

_I'll never mourn Black Robin_

_He killed my girl of four_

_The day they Hanged Black Robin_

_My son came home no more."_

When she finished Isolt sat for a moment in silence, her hand still grasping Cleganes.

He shut his eyes, a pained look etching into his features. Isolt cautiously went to touch his face with her free hand.

"Don't" He barked, his eyes flying open. Isolt pursed her lips pushing her brows together as she paused locking her hues with his.

"Why?"

"I should frighten you. Yet there isn't a man alive who looks at me the way you do."

"I've seen plenty scarier than a wounded old dog," Isolt said with a wry smile. He said nothing merely shut his eyes allowing her fingers to brush against the lefts side of his face. She said nothing as he seemed to lean into her touch, she only wondered how long it had been since a woman had touched him like this if a woman had _ever_ touched him like this. "I have scars too Clegane, I just shared some with you I even got a new one tonight." She said while moving her fingers towards the right side of his face.

"Enough." He said grasping her wrist in his hand. She stared up at him for a moment. The man who sat beside her was no fearsome warrior, he was sadness embodied. Isolt tore her hand from his grasp before returning it to her side. "Leave, now." He rasped, turning his back to her.

Isolt did as he bid and left without another word. She kept her head down as she limped to her bedroom. As she walked she couldn't deny the heat in her cheeks that Clegane had left with her. Isolt shut her door, allowing herself to press her back to the door and slide to the floor a small sob escaping her lips. If you had asked her why she was crying Isolt wouldn't have been able to tell you. All she knew was an unfamiliar feeling of overwhelming grief mixed with something she couldn't quite place consumed her.

* * *

**_(A/N: I promised it wouldn't be that long! Hope you all enjoyed this chapter, this was one was very fun to write. Thank you all for the follows/favorite and reviews. Dalonige Noquisi I'm glad you liked the last chapter and found the whore preference shift funny/cringy. I thought it was an interesting little detail to add. Thank you SmallLittleCagedBird for the feedback! Since it seems like the last chapter was well received I will try and work in more Sandor POV chapters in the future. Not a ton just a few here and there so we get to see what going on in his head too. Let me know what you all think. Oh and I've been playing a lot of Dragon AG Inqusition and ugh when I was trying to come up with a chapter title this just kept popping into my head. Haha I mean it's fitting considering our Isolt is kinda prideful to a fault and it's anded her into a pretty big mess. See you all next chapter I will try to have it up ASAP hopefully before the weekened it through.)_**


	12. In Debt to a Dog

Isolt yawned slightly as she leaned into the back of the leather bound chair situated across the table from Tyrion. She brushed her hands along the dark wooden table in an attempt to seem preoccupied rather than exhausted. Two weeks had passed since her last encounter with an assassin from the Company of the Cat. Two whole weeks since she had confessed to Sandor Clegane that she needed him. Isolt had done her best to hide her injury from Bronn and Tyrion, but the pain was still there in a large enough amount that it often kept her from sleep. Though pain hadn't been the only thing disrupting her evenings.

Her wound seemed to act up every night when it bothered her Isolt often found her mind wandering back to Clegane. She would think about the feeling of his weight on top of her, the warmth that had filled her loins when he cupped her breast in his hand. Sometimes when she thought back on it, she had wished he pressed further. She would think of hundreds of other scenarios for that night many which ended with that tattered and bloody dress laying on the floor beside Cleganes armor, but as soon as Isolt realized what she was thinking she would quickly shake the whole affair from her thoughts. Unfortunately for her, it was never too long until those thoughts returned once more.

She had given him permission to ask for anything, he could've fucked her bloody and she could not have complained. She was shocked, he hadn't. He had her there on his bed pinned beneath his body, muscled and strong as an ox. Even if Isolt weren't injured he was much stronger. If Clegane had wanted her he could've had her, no amount of fighting back would've stopped that. Not that she would have fought him. He instead asked for a song from her, nothing more, nothing less. Of all things, it was a sad song about a bandit he asked to hear. Isolt had felt a myriad of emotions after leaving his room that night confusion being the strongest. In fact, her confusion was so great she had done everything thing in her control to completely avoid him since then. She wondered if he was doing the same thing.

Isolt knew he would never admit it, but Clegane was quite drunk when he came upon her outside of the Red Keep. She could smell it on his breath; she saw it in his eyes she felt it in his fumbling grasp. It seemed he was kinder towards her when intoxicated; well kinder and affectionate. She couldn't help but wonder if he regretted the affection he showed towards after sobering up. Isolt was to nervous to see him again and find out.

He had let her touch his face even if it was only the unscarred side. When Isolt thought back on it seemed he had also leaned into her hand as though thirsting for more too. More that he could've easily taken, more that Isolt was annoyed he hadn't taken. When he grasped her breast in his hand she couldn't deny the warmth that had rushed to her loins, the warmth that returned every time she thought on it.

"Have you been listening to me at all?" Isolt snapped back into focus, her cheeks were warm from her thoughts. She narrowed her eyes towards Tyrion Lannister for breaking her from her fantasy. He leaned forward in his seat, waiting expectantly for a reply. Isolt sighed sharply, sitting further back in her leather-bound chair.

"No, not a word." Tyrion quirked a brow as he poured a glass of wine and, Isolt pressed her lips together watching him from the corner of her eye as he pushed it towards her. She watched as he rubbed his temples lightly before placing his hands firmly on the table.

"I'm sure you've heard that Stannis Baratheon's army will be upon us much sooner than originally thought."

"Aye, I heard he'll be here within the week. What of it?"

Tyrions mouth went slightly agape as he blinked over at Isolt for a moment. He knit his brows a sharp sigh escaping his lips.

"'What of it?' My dear Isolt you do realize we are preparing for a siege right now correct? I'm sure you've seen the men lining the walls with rocks, or perhaps you noticed all the provisions we've been stockpiling in case the siege drags on?"

"Yes, yes I know. Sieges can be terribly long and terribly boring." Isolt snatched her glass from the table and took a small gulp hoping it would ease her mounting annoyance.

"I am not disagreeing with you on either front. I've called you here today is to fill you in on the strategy we will be using to defend our city."

"This dingy shitehole is not_ my_ city." Isolt drained her cup and pushed it towards Tyrion. He poured her more wine as she continued. "I'm surprised you're talking to me about this, to begin with. It seems since I've been here you and Bronn can't keep your cocks out of each other's mouths long enough to involve me in anything of import." Tyrions face remained unmoved by her baseless accusations. He had known her well enough by now to know when Isolt was just saying hurtful things. She snatched her cup back from him before burying her face in it once more.

"I apologize if you've felt left out," Isolt narrowed her eyes at his measured words "But I couldn't very well name _you_ Captain of the Guard now could I? I even had much opposition about Bronn and he at least has a cock."

"Aye, one I'm sure you're quite familiar with by now." Tyrion shut his eyes before briefly resting his head in his hands.

"You are as disturbingly preoccupied with your cousins' sex life as he is with yours. I suppose it's some queer family trait." Isolts cheeks flushed red, Tyrion raised his head from his hands "On to my point. Stannis will likely be bringing his fleet to a weak point in the Keeps defenses. That weak point will likely be the Mud Gate."

"Right, and why would I need to know this? Since I haven't heard anything of the preparations for this upcoming battle I assumed I was going to be sitting around with the other Ladies stewing while they sewed or sing or praying for our brave men to return safely from battle or whatever the fuck Ladies do during a siege." She buried her nose into the wineglass hoping to cover the increasingly bitter look on her face.

"You will be doing nothing of the sort, now please shut up and let me tell you what you are needed for." Isolt pressed her mouth shut and glowered over at the dwarf. "I've been made aware that in your time here you've helped train a fair number of Lannister men in archery. Are they decent?" Isolts eyes widened, she hadn't expected that Tyrion had taken notice of any positive accomplishments of hers since arriving.

"Decent enough. Most can hit a moving target from 30 yards off. A handful can do a bit better."

"Splendid, so it's settled you will help lead a platoon of archers against Stannis at the Mud Gate."

Isolts jaw fell; in all her years fighting she had never once been given a command position. She shifted in her seat, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable under the weight of this responsibility. It was something she had always claimed to want, but now that she actually had the opportunity she was absolutely terrified.

"You can't be serious, I'm a _"

"A damn good archer."

"I'm a woman Tyrion, your men with not accept this. The King will not accept this."

"So? Being a womans never stopped you before. The men I'm putting under your command are some of the same ones who have come to respect you, men that you've given a fighting chance too. They've seen first hand what you're capable of; I can assure you none of them will question your authority. I know you will have no problem correcting any who are foolish enough to do so." Isolt froze, her knuckles growing white from clenching the wineglass in her hand much too tightly.

"I-I wouldn't know what to do or say." All her life she would've given anything to have this opportunity, but now that it was here Isolt felt as though her failure was inevitable. Did she really want to be responsible for the lives of dozens of men?

"Yes you do, you've seen many more battles then half of those men. You just tell them when to aim and fire. Simply follow the plan and everything will go fine. You've never been the type to sell yourself short Isolt, don't start now. The reward you were given after the Green Fork will be nothing in comparison to this."

"Gold?"

"Of course, gold, status and whatever else you may desire. I'm sure once Joffrey sees how instrumental your aide is in battle he will be willing to part with some land for you."

"I don't want land or status or power." Tyrion sighed.

"Well gold then, I can assure you will get more then you will ever be able to spend." Isolt pursed her lips, little did he know she owed a debt greater than any sum she could ever hope to receive. She brought herself to her feet, "Wait before you go I have a gift for you." Isolts brow quirked as Tyrion made his way over towards a rich mahogany chest he had sitting at the foot of the bed.

"I don't need any of your fancy gifts little man," Isolt said sharper then she had intended. All she could think of what the last 'gift' a Lannister had given her and the trouble it had contributed too. She returned to her seat with a sigh, Tyrion was not Cersei. Whatever gift he had brought her she was sure its purpose wasn't to humiliate her.

"Now, now don't be that way. I truly have felt bad that I haven't included you in much during the past few months I hoped that this would make up for it at least to some degree. Can't very well have you leading men into battle wearing that." Isolt narrowed her eyes as Tyrion approached and placed a weighty box on her lap. "Don't make that face, I'm not trying to insult you. Just open the box."

"I swear to the Old Gods and the New if this is a fucking box of dresses_"

"It's not a dress or any other silly bauble, I promise. Just open it."

Isolt narrowed her eyes at Tyrion, he merely gestured towards the box. She pressed her lips together and lifted the lid. The smell of fresh leather hit her nose as she dropped the lid to the floor with a small thump. Her chest swelled at the black leather cuirass that lay before her. She quickly pulled it from the box, her heart nearly pounding out of her chest as she carefully traced a finger over one of the tridents that had been embroidered into the cuirass over the right collarbone. She pinched the hard-boiled hide between her fingers, slightly shocked by its rigidity. It was thicker then what she currently wore and also much heartier. As she looked closely at it, she noticed the vest was curved to accommodate the shape of a woman. Isolt wasn't entirely keen on this particular detail, but it wasn't enough to deter her appreciation. There was no doubt Tyrion had spent a good bit on this alone. She placed the cuirass back in the box and looked over at him. Tyrion stood beside her, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he watched her admire his gift.

"Go on there's more, you will be in charge of a platoon, after all, I want to be sure you look and feel the part." Isolt pulled the cuirass from the box and placed it on the table. A matching jet black gorget, pauldrons, and gauntlets lay beneath a finely made set of thigh armor. All were adorned with an embroidered trident in some effect. At the very bottom of the box lay a black chainmail habergeon. She blinked slightly shocked he had gifted her a full set of armor. Isolt felt the well-oiled mail and glanced towards him, her brows drawing together slightly.

"This is too much... I can't accept." Isolt said while quickly placing the habergeon on the table in front of her beside the rest of the jet-black armor. Isolt shot to her feet once more but Tyrion grabbed her arm and led her back to her seat. She felt her eyes well up as Tyrion lifted her new cuirass and observed it.

"I know it's quite a bit more armor then you're used to but I made sure the Tanner made it as light as it is strong. He made a few other sets that Bronn and I felt subpar, the first was made of goat hide then he tried cow. Neither were as strong as we would've liked. We wound up settling on bear hide, in the end, a bit heavier then you're used to but also a hell of a lot stronger. The tridents were Bronns idea. He informed me you grew up near the Blue Fork." Tyrion placed the cuirass on Isolts lap.

"It's much to nice for the likes of me."

"I will not hear such nonsense, you are a fine woman and you deserve fine things." She felt her lips curve into a smile as she ran her fingers across the cuirass once more. It had been ages since she got new armor, and she had never owned something specifically crafted for her let alone a matching set. "So do you care to change into it now?" Isolt beamed over at him and nodded before scooping her new leathers and habergeon in her arms and making her way behind a dressing screen.

Isolt quickly tossed her darkened brown leather cuirass to the ground, feeling greatly relieved she would never have to wear that soiled piece of crap ever again. She slid into the chainmail the way she had seen Bronn do so many times before. Isolts hands couldn't stop shaking from excitement as she strapped herself into all her new pieces. It took a bit longer then she was used too but the results were well worth it. Isolt stepped out from behind the changing screen a smile plastered across her face and she looked down at Tyrion.

"It's quite a bit more weight then I'm used to but otherwise it's perfect… How did you get it so perfect?'

"A lot of patience and a lot of gold. I'm glad to see you like it." Isolt paused for a moment before taking a step towards him, trying her best to conceals her limp. She knelt down and grabbed Tyrions shoulders in her hands. "You look absolutely stunning. I never would've guessed you looked like that under that ragged old thing you always wear." Isolt quickly brushed the wetness from her eyes.

"I will never forget your kindness Tyrion. The capital may not agree with me, but you are a good kind man." Isolt leaned forward and planted a quick kiss on his cheeks before rising to her feet once more. Tyrion clasped his cheek in his hand with a wide grin.

"My you really must be fond of my gift, I can't say I've ever seen you quite so chipper."

"I am." Isolt looked herself over in the mirror. Where her former vest hid her womanly shape this cuirass accentuated it. Her womanhood had once been viewed as a mark of shame, but it seemed Tyrion really didn't care seeing as he was showcasing her to the world with this. Isolt couldn't stop grinning as she continued watching herself in the mirror. "I feel beautiful." She said with a nervous laugh.

"You look very striking indeed." His words brought warmth to her chest, "I was going to include a Lannister red cloak as well but Bronn said_"

"It makes to much noise and it slows movement." Isolt finished saying while she turned to view herself from a different angle. "Though this mail will likely slow me down too. I suppose I will just have to adjust to the weight before the battle."

"Right…" Tyrion returned to his seat, taking another sip of wine while he watched Isolt revel in her gift. "There is one more thing I'd like to bring up while I have you here."

"Oh?"

"Podrick tells me he's heard the Hound has been asking for you." Isolt froze for a moment her expression suddenly dropping before sharply turning to face him. "Is there something I should know?"

"You said before my personal affairs are no business of yours."

"Yes, I have said that and I mean it. Let me rephrase this… I've noticed that over the past few months whenever there are whispers of the two of you being together," Isolt shot him an icy glare "I don't mean together in _that _sense of course, but whenever you two have been spotted together you always seem to wind up with an injury of some sort. The throat slash… the riot, the_"

"Are you asking if he's been secretly abusing me or something? Pfft you really think I'd let any man get away with that shite? I thought you were supposed to be smart."

"No, I don't believe Clegane would harm you. Quite the opposite really… I went about this the wrong way my apologies."

"What?" Isolt snapped, her patience growing thin.

"You are aware he is a member of the Kingsguard, correct? He is duty bound to serve my nephew until his death. He can hold no lands, no titles father no family."

"Ok, what does that have to do with me?" Tyrion was silent for a moment. He drained his wine glass before pouring himself another, he gestured towards Isolts glass, "Fuck off with your wine tell me whey you brought this shite up, to begin with."

"I only want to keep you grounded. After the battle, I'm sure you will have a number of marriage proposals to contend with. Just know he will not be one of them." Her face went red at his words.

"Who bloody says I want to marry him or anyone else for that matter?"

"You're right, I apologize again for being presumptuous please forget I said anything. Do you have any questions for me?"

"No," Isolt said sharply before pushing her way towards the door. She hardly made it four steps out of Tyrions room before a voice pulled her out of her internal rage.

"Looks like he talked to you then," Bronn said, he had apparently been waiting for her outside of his room. "Do you fancy the new armor?"

"Yes." Isolt snapped, Bronn raised his brows and laughed at her icy response.

"I suppose it better you're having your blood now rather than during the battle." Isolt went to swing at him without thinking. Bronn nimbly stepped out of her way, chuckling as her hand zipped past him. She winced upon putting excess pressure on her right leg. "Seems we got the new armor to you a little too late. How'd you get hurt this time?" He asked while glancing towards her leg.

"I'm not," Isolt lied, repressing a grimace as she put her full weight on her injured leg once more. Bronn gave her a wolfish grin before jolting forward and landing an open-palmed slap on the back of her thigh right where the healing burn wound was. Isolt cringed and let out a small whimper from the pain. Bronn laughed while raising his brows at her.

"Right, cause that was a completely normal reaction for you to have after a slap on the leg."  
"Why are you always such a nosey piece of shit?" She snarled narrowing her eyes up at him.

"Why can't you ever keep that nose of yours out of trouble?"

"If you're only here to scold me then just fuck off." Bronn caught her arm as she turned to walk away.

"Not so fast Is, as fun as it is to see you get all worked up that isn't why I'm here. Tyrion wanted me to brief you on your role to play in the upcoming battle." Isolt rolled her eyes as she wrenched her arm from his grasp. "He also wants you to meet your men." Isolt rolled her eyes.

"Yeah yeah, whatever. What more is there to know? I'll be leading some archers, it isn't that difficult." As they walked down from the tower of the Hand Isolt began thinking more of the upcoming battle. The Mud Gate was where Stannis' forces were suspected to land so it was where Tyrion was placing the brunt of their forces herself included. If she were being put in charge of the archers she wondered what Bronn would be doing. He was just as good a shot as her. "If I'm commanding the archers where the fuck are you going to be doing?"

"You don't need to worry about that." Bronn said with a smirk, "All you need to worry about is raining down fire on the Baratheon troops." Her heart dropped at the mention of fire. It was a weapon she never cared to use.

"Fire?"

"Yes fire, is there a problem with that? It's a common siege tactic as you should already know."

"O-Of course I knew that you bloody idiot," Isolt said shortly. "I just think it's a nasty underhanded tactic is all." Bronn rolled his eyes letting out a sharp sigh at her reply.

"Mervin met his end ages ago, you ought to stop thinking about it. This aversion to using fire_"

"I don't have an aversion to using fire you fucking moron."

"Well, that's very good to hear." Bronn gave her a condescending pat on the back. "While you're taking charge of the archers from above the Hound and that young Kingsguard, fuck what's his name, Swann maybe?" Bronn asked Isolt shrugged she hardly cared about the members of Joffrey's Kingsguards learning their names was not something she had even attempted to do. "They're to lead the ground forces."

Her heart sank as the pieces of this battle began to click together. She would be fine; there was little danger to her sitting atop the battlements unless Stannis' troops actually managed to breach the walls. Clegane, however, would not be so lucky. He would be on the beach admits a fiery rain of arrows and Baratheon men trying to kill him. He had never spoken of it to her but she knew his past, Tyrion had told her how he had gotten those scars. She had also seen the way he acted while lighting the brazier in his bedroom Isolt knew that would likely prove to be a very trying battle for him. Of course, she couldn't speak on the matter without soliciting some smart remark from Bronn.

"Good choices I suppose. Cleganes a seasoned warrior and that other one well he's got to be better than Blount or Trant."

"Speaking of 'Clegane'," Bronn smirked down at her causing Isolts' jaw to clench "I've heard some of my boys talking about him letting you into the Keep with him not to long ago. Said you were all dressed up in a gown. I wonder did he dress you up all nice and pretty then make you his bitch? Could it be that's where you got that limp from."  
"You're foul." Bronn laughed as Isolt glowered over at him.

"I'm not to one running around bedding mean ugly fuckers like him."

"I don't care to speak of Clegane or any baseless rumors regarding him and I. Talk to me about the battle or take me to the men I'm to command in silence."

"I'll say this, out of respect for the blood we share." Bronn grasped her shoulder in his hand and gave it a firm squeeze "You could do a lot better," Isolt opened her mouth to object "I'm not done, whatever is going on between the two of you… If he ever does anything that you don't like you tell me."

"What you going to defend my honor? You intend to fight Clegane on my behalf?"

"Fuck, I'd rather not, but he would be dealt with somehow." Isolts lips cracked into a small grin. Of course, she didn't want Clegane to be 'dealt with' but it wasn't often Bronn acknowledged and acted as though they were family. It was a pleasant surprise.

"Gods, the capitol really has made you soft." Bronns lips quickly drew into a frown; he gave Isolt a small shove before pressing onwards. Isolt followed closely behind a small smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

Several dozen men wearing Lannister red were gathered about when they reached the training ground. Some were talking some were sparing and others were dumbly staring off into space. Of course, Isolt didn't know all of these men, but among the people there she recognized a small handful, Tomn, and Daevon being among them.

Bronn pressed his fingers to his lips letting out a sharp whistle that drew the attention of all the men. Isolt stood up straight feeling slightly awkward as the men turned their attention towards them. She suddenly felt slightly resentful for her beautiful new armor as some of the Lannister men seemed to eye the curve in her chest hungrily.

"Listen up you louts. As you already know Stannis is nearly upon us. He wants to sack this city, but we won't let that happen." The Lannister men let out cheers of agreement until Bronn raised and arm to silence them. "Some of you know the woman standing beside me. She is to be your Captain on the battlements when she says jump you ask how high."

"I ain't taking no orders from no bitch." A gruff voice said. A round man with a scruffy grey beard stepped forward. "There plenty better qualified then this cunt, she thinks she can lead us just cause she spread her legs for the Imp." The man spat toward the ground at his statement. Bronn glanced over at Isolt expectantly; she had already pulled her bow from her back and notched an arrow. The men who stood behind the man quickly stepped aside and before another word could be uttered she sent an arrow flying only inches from his head.

"Any more complaints from you and the next one will be through your head," Isolt said while notching a second arrow. "Any more of you ugly fuckers got something smart to say?" The men remained silent, she lowered her weapon with a forced smile. "Good." Bronn cleared his throat refocusing the attention of the soldier on him.

"Right, from now until after the battle your bollocks belong to her. Is that clear?" There was no objection, the men stood staring at Isolt slightly slack-jawed "Well don't stand around start practicing you dumb twats." Bronn clapped his hands together sending the Lannister men into a small frenzy searching for something to keep busy with. Isolt smiled giving him a small nod before he walked away.

She spent most of the day in the training yard with the men who had been assigned to her making sure they were ready to defend Kings Landing. She also spent some time sharpening up her own skills as well being sure to get used to the feel and weight of her new armor. She had never worn chainmail before and she found it made things significantly more difficult. By the time she dismissed her men it was well past nightfall. She slowly made her way back towards her room feeling as sore and utterly exhausted as the rest of them probably felt. Isolt shut her door behind her with a sigh.

After bolting the lock and turning into her room Isolts' breath caught in her throat at the sight that lay before her. On the floor was a man with his skull crushed in, bleeding all over the stones that lined the floor. She pressed her back against her wooden door and reached for her dagger. Through the darkness that covered her room, she saw a hulking figure hunched over on her bed. Isolt held her breath before making her way towards it.

"Put that damned thing away Songbird." The Hound rasped. Isolts' cheeks flushed as she gingerly returned her blade to her side before thoughtfully making her way towards the bed. As Isolt stood before him and looked Clegane over she couldn't help but feel slightly embarrassed for him. Even though he was sitting, his body was still wobbling and unsteady. His eyes, which he kept locked on her, were glazed over and bloodshot, and the stench of booze that permeated her room had surely come from him. She stood beside him arching her brow and placing her hands onto her hips expectantly "Don't give me that fucking look if I hadn't come in here it could've been you on the floor. Another one of your friends I suppose." He slurred before taking an unneeded gulp from his wineskin. "Seems they found their way into the Keep. Still, think everything's fine?"

"What are you doing in my room Clegane, you had no way of knowing he'd be here."

"He was another one who didn't want to shut the fuck up." He continued completely ignoring her. "Kept rambling on and on about you and some greasy headed Braavosi cunt."

"Why are you here?" She asked sternly, completely ignoring his comments. Clegane narrowed his eyes at her for a moment his mouth opened as though he were about to speak but no sound came. He pressed his lips together into a wry smile as his eyes flashed over her.

"Fancy new armor you got there."

"What the fuck are you doing in here?"

"Vyrenno Eranaris." He laughed before taking another swig from his wineskin. "Sounds like a complete twat." Isolts eyes widened at the mention of his name. It had been years since she had seen him, but the thought of him still filled her with rage. Isolt shut her eyes breaking his gaze with her in an attempt to center herself. "Did you fuck him or something?" Her eyes shot open at his unexpected question. She froze for a moment his eyes fixed on her. Clegane laughed at her apparent discomfort a bitter smile spreading across his lips before he took another large gulp of wine.

"What difference does that make to you? Why do you even care?"

"Vyrenno sounds like some sort of nasty disease don't it?" Clegane rested his elbows on his knees, steadying his swaying slightly. He looked over at Isolt, his face stony and cold "Tell me do you miss him having you on your back_"

_Crack_

Isolt had acted without even thinking. Her hand stung from where it had made contact with the Hounds face. His smirk disappeared in an instant; he grabbed her wrist tightly in his hand, glowering up at her from his seat on her bed. He pulled her between his knees without a word. Isolt tried to tug her arm from his grip, but he held strong. She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Whether I fucked him or not it isn't any of your damn business. I don't want to talk about Vyrenno or the Company of the Cat or anything else for that matter. I have important things that I must deal with; we can't all go fumbling through life drunk as you are. I'll ask you once more Clegane, why are you here?" Isolt continued to wrench herself free from him before the Hound grasped her other wrist holding her firmly in place between his legs.

"Maybe I just wanted to hear another pretty song," He said a ghost of a smile creeping to the corner of his lips. Isolts cheeks warmed at his comment. She was unsure of what to make of him. He was drunk and anything he said shouldn't be taken to seriously "I really do like this fancy new armor of yours. Lets us all see you have a woman's body." Her cheeks flushed even more at his statement and their increasingly close proximity as he pulled her closer. "Almost as nice as that pretty little dress."

"Was that all Clegane?" The Hound continued to smirk up at her while Isolt glanced at the body on her floor. The blood had long since coagulated she couldn't help but wonder how long Clegane had been waiting for her. "I'm afraid I don't have time or energy for a song tonight, and you should probably get yourself to bed before someone else sees you like this. People are already talking about two weeks ago when I left your room I can only imagine what they'll say when you leave here in such a state"

"I killed another one for you." He stated ignoring her completely, for a brief moment he took his eyes off her and focused on the man he had killed. "Bashed his fucking skull in."

"I can see that…" She muttered, he released her wrist before swiftly bringing his hands to her waist. She didn't swat him away; she didn't yell she only stood there staring at him as butterflies continued to build in her stomach. "Why?" Isolt managed to choke out, He glanced at her. "You keep helping me… You're getting yourself involved in a mess you have no business being in. Why are you doing this to yourself?"

"Why does it fucking matter why?"

"This is my life Clegane, I think I should know why you keep involving yourself in it." He stared up at her for what felt like an eternity before quickly casting his gaze to the ground.

"I don't know."

"You 'don't know'? Do you think I'm fucking stupid Clegane? No one would go through all this trouble for no reason.

"I said I don't fucking know." His eyes darted back towards hers as he tightened his grip, "Maybe I just admire your spark, foolish as it may make you Maybe I can't stop thinking about you. Your voice, your scent your hair your eyes… Maybe it's just because you look at me, not through me not towards me, _at me_. I can't remember a single living person who looks me in the eye the way you do. You're a reckless idiot, but…." His voice trailed off, Isolt remained frozen trembling slightly under the weight of his grasp and words, "You've an honest heart. Maybe I don't want to see you gone just yet."

"Just 'maybe'?" Isolt placed her hand on his armored shoulder. He looked at it skeptically for a moment before looking back at her.

"Do you still have that dress?" He asked his hands slipping down from her waist to her hips. Isolt felt her heart increase as the blood rushed to her cheeks. She cast her gaze towards their feet.

"No… Why would I keep something like that it was tattered and bloody and completely impractical."

"I've always thought you were a pretty little thing, but Gods when I saw you in that dress. I wasn't expecting that…" He muttered his fingers digging into her hips.

"You're drunk," Isolt said, shaking her head slightly. She dared another glance towards him only to see he was still intently staring at her, "Otherwise you wouldn't be here and you wouldn't be saying and doing such ridiculous things."

"Aye I'm drunk and maybe I wouldn't be if I weren't but I'm here now and I am saying it and, fuck I mean it Songbird."

"And you call me foolish," Isolt said with a nervous laugh. Clegane pulled her against him, his hands still resting on her hips.

"Sit with me."

"I have too much to do. You said it was it a song you wanted or are you interested in something else? I'm afraid you won't find anything pretty for me to wear in here."

"I told you to come sit."

Isolt pursed her lips she stepped out from between his legs and reluctantly took a seat on the bed beside him. His appearance here was unexpected and had set her on edge. The things he was saying made her feel even more uncomfortable. Her feelings for him were uncertain, from the things he was saying to her it seemed he felt the same way. Her body tensed as she thought of the possibility of Clegane requesting sex. If he did would she even be able to deliver? Her heart became caught in her throat at the thought of it.

"Your face looks even better than before." He reached out and brushed the bridge of her nose gently with his gauntleted fingertips the corners of his lips turning upward into a faint smile. For a brief moment, Isolt thought to lean over and kiss him. She blinked up at him for a moment before gently pushing his hand away, his mouth quickly dropped. Isolts stomach churned at his stony expression. It wasn't that she didn't want him touching her, it just felt wrong coming from him as drunk as he was. She had no doubt that he would come to regret all that he had said to her the following morning, "How's your leg?"

"Healing." His expression hardened once more at her short answer. Isolt sighed before resting her hand on his lap. "I am truly grateful you helped me once more and I intend to repay you. I have a lot on my mind Clegane I can't_" Isolt froze as he rose to his feet his eyes locked with hers. She remained focused on him even as he cupped her cheek in his hand. For a brief moment, she had hoped he would lean in and kiss her. Isolt felt herself leaning in towards him, whether or not Clegane noticed this was a mystery. He shut his eyes for a moment before releasing her from his alarmingly gentle grasp.

"I'll come back for my favor," He stumbled towards the corpse and threw him over his shoulder "When I come back for it, I want to see you in something pretty." Clegane paused after opening the door and glanced back at her. "We can ruin it together next time" Isolt felt heat rush to her cheeks at the implication. Clegane didn't wait for a reply he kicked the door shut leaving Isolt alone in the dimly lit room.

Isolt pressed her hand to her chest in a futile attempt to calm her pounding heart. She allowed herself to fall back onto her bed, forcing her eyes shut desperately wishing she could just go to sleep. She let out a sharp sigh before jolting to her feet.

For now, she could not lie around thinking of Sandor Clegane and the feelings he may've shared. She had the battle to prepare for and for now, some blood to clean up.

* * *

_**(A/N: Hope you all enjoyed this chapter. I was absolutely blown away with the positive reception the last one got. Hope I can keep delivering stuff that you all want to keep reading. As always appreciate everyone who's still here reading/ following/ favoriting and reviewing. Love you all!)**_


	13. Selfish Desire

It was a rare and valued day free of shielding the King. Sandor Clegane had found himself waking around mid-morning. After his squire armored him the Hound made his way towards a tavern. The same one he had saved _her_ from all those months ago. He hadn't seen her in weeks. Not since another dumb twat from that stupid Company of Nances or whatever the fuck they called themselves.

Since that night two weeks ago Sandor found his thoughts wandering towards his Songbird many times. There was something about seeing her lying there on his bed, in a dress of all things, which had almost been enough to drive him mad. He wished he had torn that fucking thing right off of her. She wouldn't have fought him, she had promised him anything after all. Even if she did try to fight him, he could overpower her easily. Even if she weren't injured, she was unarmed and much weaker then she would ever let on. Sandor had felt first hand that his Songbird did indeed have the soft body of a woman hidden beneath those rough leathers of her

She had tried to deny any pain or issue she had tried to handle it herself but Sandor knew it was merely her prideful nature taking over. He had seen the way her eyes welled with tears the way her shoulders heaved and her limbs trembled. He knew her well enough to know something wasn't right. When Sandor discovered the knife stick out of her thigh his initial reaction was anger. After all this time, after all he had done for that bitch, she was still keeping him at arm's length. In reality, that was only a small part of what angered him. She had been hurt again and he wasn't there for her. He had let her down, he had let _himself _down. Fuck that was a crazy thought. He had never sworn any oaths to her; he didn't know why he felt this compulsion to keep her from harm.

Clearly, she had been terrified by whatever had happened that night, despite all that it had been her who ordered him to cauterize her wound. As he had held that heated metal to her thigh she screamed and jolted as any man or woman would, then quietly wiped the wetness from her face before facing him, too proud to let him see her softer side willingly. He had never seen a woman so strong-willed before, it had only made him want her even more. It was almost as infuriating as it was arousing when she spoke of her dire situation so nonchalantly. It was also enraging when she foolishly continued to turn down assistance from her cousin. It had made no sense to Sandor _why _she wouldn't just suck it up and ask for help. Her pride would be the death of her.

Yes, it had been two weeks since seeing her, two long weeks since he had brushed his calloused fingers against the soft warm flesh of her leg since he had her pressed beneath him. Her eyes wide, face pale and jaw dropped. He should've fucked her then. Gods knew he wanted to, but something felt wrong. She wasn't herself. If Sandor wanted to fuck some hollow-eyed whore he would just go to the Peach. As tempted, as he had been he'd decided a song would just have to satiate him for the time being. A fucking depressing song that she had sung to one of those dead Cat cunts before. If he had known it would be so long until he saw her again he would've ordered her to stay with him that night, he would've spent it fucking her raw and drinking in her beauty.

Sandor had been drinking more since that night and the more he drank the more he found himself thinking of her and longing for her. Two weeks had been far too long to not even _see_ her. He wanted to feel the heat of her pressed beneath him, the swell of her chest under his hand her soft touch stroking his cheek. He wanted to fell her wet heat, to see a look of pure ecstasy consume her while he slipped inside it. Sandor shifted in his seat, his hardened member throbbing uncomfortably against his armor.

"That's an odd look you've got about your face Hound," Swann said as he sat at the table across from him. Sandor quickly pulled a stein of ale from his hand, annoyed that he had pulled him from his thoughts. The younger Kingsguard sat at the table across from him and took a small swig. "Something troubling you?"

"Fuck off." Sandor glanced towards the door, wishing his Songbird would walk into the tavern.

"Now that's not an honorable way to speak to your sword brother."

"Never claimed to be honorable." Sandor took a draining swig of ale and slammed his cup down on the table. "I also told you when you followed me out of the Keep I was going to drink."

"Right and I said that sounds nice and asked if I could join you."

"I have no control over who drinks in the same establishments as me boy. Drinking is drinking. Talking is something entirely different and talking makes me thirsty." Sandor shoved the empty stein towards Swann. "If you want to talk you'll be wanting a pitcher for me." Swann blinked over at him for a moment clearly confused.

Swann didn't seem a bad sort; he was young and strong and so far hadn't proven to be a deplorable twat like Trant and the other Kingsguard were. Sandor didn't disdain his particular company it was more the fact he wanted no company at all. Well, no one aside from hers. He sighed wondering if he would have just been better off ordering the servant girl to bring him a few flagons of sour red wine so he could drink himself stupid in the privacy of his room back at the keep. At least there when he thought of Songbird he could take care of his itch right then and there. There was also the possibility of visiting her bedchambers.

Instead, he decided to come to the tavern. It was queer, but in the two weeks that passed Sandor had not seen his Songbird fluttering about at all. He couldn't help but wonder if she was avoiding him, he could hardly blame her if she was. The Tavern was somewhere he could run into her and at least seem to be coincidental. From there, well fuck he didn't know knowing her she'd be in some sort of trouble he would help her again then well this time Sandor would not be asking for a song.

"I've brought you more Ser_"

"Fuck your _'Sers' _and shove them up your arse Balon. You're the _Ser_ here I'm just the fucking dog you'd do well to remember that." Sandor grabbed the pitcher and shifted it in front of himself. Balon stood beside him, bawdy hands balled into fists. "Sit down or leave don't just stand there like a slack-jawed fool."

Swann sat across from him his lips drawn into a tight line. Sandor shut his eyes while pressing his armored hand against his forehead for a brief moment hoping to press back his frustration.

"You're in a foul mood," Balon mumbled before taking a swig of his own ale.

"I'm always in a foul mood you fucking idiot."

"That's not true, I've seen you smile. I believe I've even seen you laugh before," Balon said while locking eyes with him for a second. Sandor stiffened, Balon hadn't been part of the Kingsguard for long but he had been part of the court.

"Oh, you have, have you?"

"Yes, as a matter of fa,ct I have," He retorted, though Balon was usually even-tempered it seemed he had enough of Sandors foul temperament, "If I didn't know you any better I'd say you have a soft spot for that woman." He spoke into his tankard. Sandors heart dropped, he hadn't realized it was such an obvious thing. It had to be if this bloody nance realized it.

"What stupid nonsense are you on about?" Of course, Sandor knew exactly who Balon was referring too. Since the riot Sandor had been more public in his dealings with her, fuck he had even called her _Songbird_ in front of all those people Balon included. It should not have been shocking that others were starting to whisper.

"You know, that woman the one who Lord Tyrions' hired as a bodyguard. The one with the scar across her nose and the wild eyes. Gods I don't blame you, she looks like a wild lay." The thought of Balon even considering fucking his Songbird was almost enough to have Sandor bash his face in. Instead, he sat back, trying to remain unphased.

"Pfft, that crazy bitch?" Sandor forced a laugh, "She's an interesting lass I'll give her that, but that mouth of hers will get her killed."

"Aye, I have to say I agree. Seems a shame."

"What?"

"I only mean that it seems a shame she's chosen such a hard life. I can imagine she'd be a pretty little thing had she chosen to live as a woman. It's unnatural the way she struts about, armed and such_"

"The fuck you know? She ain't from a Noble house like you and I boy. How can you fault the girl? I have to give her credit for choosing to live by the blade rather than on her back." She had never spoken about her childhood, but Sandor knew she was common folk. If she hadn't taken up her line of work he had no doubt she would be married to some miserable skell, pumping out babies.

"If I had known you were this wound up I would have just stayed back at the keep. Maybe would've switched watches with Trant, I don't particularly enjoy sharing nights off with you Clegane. Perhaps our other shield brothers would be a better company."

"Never said I was good company," Cleagane knocked his cup towards the ground and picked up the pitcher, drinking the ale straight from there. As he slammed the pitcher on the counter and turned towards the door as a pale skinned boy with thin black hair walked in. Sandor watched him as Swann began to ramble on about some nonsense Sandor cared nothing about. For a minute Sandor could not place who he was, but he was familiar.

"What are you looking at?" Swann snapped, Sandor blinking for a moment before returning his attention to the younger Kingsguard. "That squire?"

"You know him?"

"That's Lord Tyrions lad if I'm not mistaken. Podrick Payne, I believe his name is." Sandor looked towards the boy once more, "Boy, come here." Swann called out to Podrick. He had pressed his thin little finger against his scrawny chest in clear confusion. "Yes you boy, Podrick right?"

"Y-Yes, Ser," Podrick stuttered as he approached the table taking special care to avoid Sandors reach.

"No need to be scared, Podrick. The Hound merely has a question for you." Sandor narrowed his eyes over towards Swann who answered with a sarcastic grin. It seemed Sandor should've been a bit nicer to the valiant young knight. Of course, Sandor had questions for the boy, but he wasn't quite drunk enough to ask about his Songbird in front of Swann. Clegane quickly lifted the pitcher and began drinking. He shut his eyes and continued to gulp down every last drop of ale.

"I want some sour red this time." He said while pushing the pitcher towards Balon. He frowned clearly disappointed he wouldn't hear what business Sandor had with the young squire. As soon as Swann was out of earshot Sandor motion for Podrick to come closer he did but only a bit, "For fuck's sake boy I won't bite you, well not if you give me a good answer that is." The young boy blanched at his words "Your Tyrions right?" The young boy nodded, though it seemed he was so terrified that even that much movement was difficult for him. "So you see Songbird then?" Podrick drew his brows together, Sandor instantly felt like an idiot for his slip, "You know that mouthy girl he's got with him. The one who likes dressing like a man."

"You mean Isolt?"

_Isolt_ the name seemed so foreign to him, yet that was Songbirds given name. Sandor gave him a curt nod, his eyelids beginning to droop from the excessive amount of alcohol he had consumed.

"Has she been well?" Podrick glanced around clearly becoming increasingly confused with the direction of this conversation. Sandor wanted to ask about her leg then quickly remembered how adamant she was that it stayed between them.

"Uhm I suppose so, my Lord_"

"I'm as much a Lord as I am a Ser you dumb fuck." Sandor spat, He glanced towards the bar when Balon was thankfully still waiting to be served. He was far too polite to demand the bar wenches attention or scold her for taking too long. "Has she asked for me?"

"Pardon?"

"You heard me."

"I'm afraid not, though Isy_" Sandor narrowed his eyes at the boy for using such a familiar version of her name "Isolt! I meant to say Isolt! She's been left to recover from the riot while Bronn and Lord Tyrion iron out the details for the upcoming battle. She sometimes comes to sup, but Lord Tyrion says she's taken to supping in her room." Podrick glanced around for a moment before leaning closer "If I'm being honest Se_" Podricks face blanched at the slip "My apologies, but if I'm being honest, she hasn't seemed quite herself. Distant, quite." Sandor nodded and gave the boy a small pat. Podrick eyed him, Sandor knew he must've been dying to know why the Hound would care to know all of this. Even if the boy had the courage to ask Sandor didn't have an answer for him.

"That'll do." Sandor leaned back in his seat his brain beginning to tread some dangerous ground and Podrick quickly made his way out of the tavern.

"I suppose you won't tell me what that was all about," Swann said after returning with a flagon of sour red.

"Nope."

Balon did not stay and drink much longer, he left around midday. Sandor drank another flagon or was it two, of sour red wine before his vision had become so blurred it was almost a challenge to walk. He stumbled his way back to the Keep just as the sun was setting. As he came across Isolts room he noticed no one was around and he remembered what Podrick had told him. With any luck, she would be taking her sup right now.

When he opened the door, there was someone inside, but it wasn't his Songbird. Sandor quickly shut the door behind him as an older man came lunging towards him. His skin was tanned and tough as leather. His eyes were beady like a snake, whatever this man was doing here Sandor knew it wasn't good.

"You're not supposed to be here you fool."

"Who the fuck are you?"

"Vyrenno doesn't want you, you ugly fucker. If you just leave then I won't have to kill you." The man paused as a thought crossed his head, his lips curving into a smirk "In fact if you help me gut that stupid little whore_" Sandor brought his massive armored fist down onto the man's head. He let out a cried yelp as he fell to the floor; he was twitching helplessly as Sandor continued to bring his fist down into his head over and over again. He had lost track of how many blows he had dealt all he knew what his hand was throbbing and covered in blood after the affair. Sandor stood up, glancing down at what he had just done. Though he would have rather had his Songbird with him, she now owed him another favor thanks to this dumb fucking asshole. He could finally feel all of her warmth whether she wanted him or not. His stomach dropped at the thought of it.

While he waited he drank from his wineskin and wandered about her room. She didn't really keep much; her room was pretty much barren save for the furniture the Crown had provided. As he opened up her chest to search for the dress she had been wearing last time, a tinge of guilt hit him. It wasn't right to go through her things like this. He picked up a roughspun tunic and pressed it to his nose, inhaling her essence of lilac and lavender. For a mercenary, Songbird always smelled so fucking good, he wondered what she would taste like.

Hours dragged by as Sandor sat on her bed getting drunker and drunker with each passing moment. He had drunk too much his vision was blurring and it was difficult to steady himself. He froze at the sound of the door opening followed by the sound of someone pressing themselves against the wooden door. Sandor heard her reach for her weapon; he shook his head chuckle to himself quietly.

"Put that damned thing away Songbird." He rasped while keeping his gaze fixed on the night sky that lay outside of her window. Her cheeks looked flushed as she looked him over, he wondered if the sight of him was humiliating for her or exciting. He had hoped for the later. After all, he was planning on bedding her. As she placed her hands on her hips and glared over at him, Sandor felt a flash of rage consume him "Don't give me that fucking look if I hadn't come in here it could've been you on the floor. Another one of your friends I suppose." He slurred before taking an unneeded gulp from his wineskin. "Seems they found their way into the Keep. Still, think everything's fine?" Her expression quickly dropped and was soon replaced by a stony one.

"What are you doing in my room Clegane, you had no way of knowing he'd be here." Even with a nasty old dog on her beg and a corpse on the floor, she tried to appear unphased. Sandor didn't want to say anything he wanted to throw her on the bed and rip her out of those fancy new leathers she was wearing. Though he could only imagine how irate she would be had he ruined her new armor. Gods did that new armor look incredible on her. It no longer hid that swell in her chest.

"He was another one who didn't want to shut the fuck up." He continued suddenly losing his nerve. "Kept rambling on and on about you and some greasy headed Braavosi cunt." He thought back on the name, Vyrenno Eranaris and how that stupid named bastard had probably fucked his Songbird more times then he cared to think of. The thought filled him with rage.

"Why are you here?" Sandor narrowed his eyes at her, he wanted to say he was here to bring her to her knees begging for his cock, but one look at his Songbird told him she would not be receptive to that in this very moment. It shouldn't have mattered, but it did. He pressed his lips together into a wry smile while he stared at the swell in her chest. He almost demanded she take off her new cuirass so he could take one of those taught mounds in his mouth. He wanted to taste every inch of her.

"Fancy new armor you got there."

"What the fuck are you doing in here?" He could tell she was growing impatient; he was impatient too just for a different reason. The thought of the Bravvosi having Songbird on her back flashed into his mind again.

"Vyrenno Eranaris." He laughed bitterly before taking another swig from his wineskin. He saw Songbirds eyes widen at the mention of his name. It seemed his suspicion of her fucking him was correct. "Sounds like a complete twat." Isolts eyes widened at the mention of his name. A pained look crosses her face before she quickly shut her eyes breaking her gaze with him. He wondered if she was embarrassed or scared. "Did you fuck him or something?" Her eyes shot open at his unexpected question. He wasn't sure why he asked, the wrong answer would only fill him with fury. She froze for a moment his eyes fixed on her. Sandor laughed at her apparent discomfort a bitter smile spreading across his lips before he took another large gulp of wine.

"What difference does that make to you? Why do you even care?" That wasn't what he wanted to hear. His mouth filled with a taste sourer than any wine.

"Vyrenno sounds like some sort of nasty disease don't it?" Clegane rested his elbows on his knees, steadying his swaying form slightly. He looked over at Isolt, his face stony and cold. He saw her face redden as he continued. He would never admit it, but hearing about Vyrenno and her had hurt him. The only thing he knew to do was hurt her back "Tell me do you miss him having you on your back_"

_Crack_

Sandor blinked up at her for a brief moment, his left cheek still stinging from the impact of her hand. The corners of his lips dropped as he grabbed her wrist and gave her a firm tug in between his knees. He tightened his grip as she narrowed her eyes at him while struggling to slip out of his grasp. All he could think of was bringing her to her knees and slipping his cock into her pretty little mouth of hers.

"Whether I fucked him or not it isn't any of your damn business. I don't want to talk about Vyrenno or the Company of the Cat or anything else for that matter. I have important things that I must deal with; we can't all go fumbling through life drunk as you are. I'll ask you once more Clegane, why are you here?" Isolt continued to try and wrench herself free from him before the Hound grasped her other wrist holding her firmly in place between his legs pulling her towards him and his aching member.

"Maybe I just wanted to hear another pretty song," It wasn't a lie, he could hear her sing a thousand times and never tire of the sound. He watched as her cheeks flushed, a sight he reveled in, "I really do like this fancy new armor of yours. Lets us all see you have a woman's body." Her cheeks grew even more red at his words. He pulled her so she was pressed against his armor "Almost as nice as that pretty little dress."

"Was that all Clegane?" Sandor smirked, of course, she would still be so difficult. "I'm afraid I don't have time or energy for a song tonight, and you should probably get yourself to bed before someone else sees you like this. People are already talking about two weeks ago when I left your room I can only imagine what they'll say when you leave here in such a state"

"I killed another one for you." Sandor ignored her. It seemed she was in a foul mood herself. For a brief moment, he took his eyes off her and focused on the man he had killed. He thought of Gidon and all the others he would gladly kill for her. He realized at that moment he would do anything to keep her safe. "Bashed his fucking skull in."

"I can see that…" Sandor released her wrist only to grip her waist. When she didn't push him away, he felt his excitement build even more as she stood there staring at him the way no one else ever could"Why?" Her voice cracked, evoking a pang of guilt in his gut "You keep helping me… You're getting yourself involved in a mess you have no business being in. Why are you doing this to yourself?" Sandor didn't have the answers. At least not one he wanted to admit.

"Why does it fucking matter why?" It shouldn't. He was keeping her safe, that was all that should've mattered.

"This is my life Clegane, I think I should know why you keep involving yourself in it." He stared up at her, what in the Seven Hells did she expect him to say? Sandor didn't have the words for her, he doubted he ever would.

"I don't know."

"You 'don't know'? Do you think I'm fucking stupid Clegane? No one would go through all this trouble for no reason."

"I said I don't fucking know." He tightened his grip on her waist, she felt so frail beneath his grasp "Maybe I just admire your spark, foolish as it may make you," Sandor continued to let the words fall from his lips. He was far too drunk to care right now. "Maybe I can't stop thinking about you. Your voice, your scent your hair your eyes…" A feeling crept up on him one that he hadn't felt in some time, one that he hadn't wanted to feel ever again; vulnerability. "Maybe it's just because you look at me, not through me not towards me, _at me_. I can't remember a single living person who looks me in the eye the way you do. You're a reckless idiot, but…." His voice trailed off as he felt his Songbird tremble beneath his hands, "You've an honest heart. Maybe I don't want to see you gone just yet."

"Just 'maybe'?" Sandor quirked a brow as she placed her hand on top of his, he wondered if she understood what he was saying better then he did or if she even believed it.

"Do you still have that dress?" His hands slipped from her waist to her hips. He felt the warmth radiating from her. He watched her cheeks flush at his touch as she cast her gaze towards his feet.

"No… Why would I keep something like that it was tattered and bloody and completely impractical."

"I've always thought you were a pretty little thing, but Gods when I saw you in that dress. I wasn't expecting that…" He dug his fingers into her, fighting to urge to rip every stitch of clothing from her. She seemed receptive, he didn't think she would object.

"You're drunk," His heart sank as her eyes met his once more. "Otherwise you wouldn't be here and you wouldn't be saying and doing such ridiculous things." Her words had some truth to them.

"Aye I'm drunk and maybe I wouldn't be if I weren't but I'm here now and I am saying it and, fuck I mean it Songbird."

"And you call me foolish," A nervous laugh slipped from her lips as he almost pulled her on top of him.

"Sit with me," Sandor said so quietly he would be shocked if she had heard.

"I have too much to do. You said it was it a song you wanted or are you interested in something else? I'm afraid you won't find anything pretty for me to wear in here."

"I told you to come sit." He was growing frustrated with how long this was taking. He didn't understand why she was acting this way. He felt foolish for the things he had just told her, especially since her response was not what he had expected. It wasn't rejection, but it certainly wasn't reciprocation either.

He watched as she pursed her lips she stepped out from between his legs. His heart pounded as she sat on the bed beside him. He wondered if she was finally scared of him. Last tie she had said he never scared him, a claim he didn't quite believe. The Hound scared everyone with a pulse, well aside from his shit head brother that is.

"Your face looks even better than before." Sandor smiled softly as he brushed the bridge of her nose gently. He watched as she blinked up at him for a moment, Gods he wanted to kiss her. He wanted to taste her, he wondered if she would taste as sweet as he thought. He never really cared for sweet things but hers was a sweetness he would gladly drink. His lips dropped as she gently pushing his hand away, "How's your leg?" He asked in a slightly sharper tone

"Healing." His heart dropped once more at her short answer. He would have thought he had misread any indication of desire from her until she sighed and rested her hand on his lap. "I am truly grateful you helped me once more and I intend to repay you. I have a lot on my mind Clegane I can't_" Sandor pushed himself to his feet, he couldn't take this for another second. He wanted her so badly and was coming close to forcing himself on her. She froze as he cupped her cheek in his hand. For a brief moment, he thought he should kiss her, Gods he even felt her leaning toward him. He shut his eyes for a moment before releasing her; a kiss wouldn't be enough to satiate her.

"I'll come back for my favor," He blundered towards the man he had beaten to death hours earlier. As he looked down at the corpse a crazy thought popped into his head. He threw him over his shoulder keeping his focus fixated on the ground. "When I come back for it, I want to see you in something pretty." The words had been a result of his unmet desire and far to much wine. He paused after opening the door and looked back at her. "We can ruin it together next time" He stared long enough to see red tint her cheeks. He kicked the door open not wanting to hear her response. Whether she wanted him or not she owed that much to him now. He wondered if she would hold his gaze the same way even after he had her on her back.

As he walked through the Keep Sandor curse himself for not pushing things further. Even if she was busy it shouldn't have fucking mattered and not only had he killed this ugly fucker now he was disposing of his corpse. He wound up tossing his from the ramparts not really caring what people would say or do about it in the morning.

He pressed his wineskin to his lips as he began to stumble back to his room. Sandor almost considered going back to her and telling her he didn't want to wait. He needed her now.

"Seems you've had a long night friend." Sandor paused and glared over at the source of the voice that pulled him from his thoughts. He rolled his eyes when he saw his Songbirds cousin leaning against a wall with a wolfish grin across his face. "On your way back from some fine ladies company?"

"Fuck off," Sandor grunted. He had never much cared for her cousin. Seemed as though he pranced through life as though the whole thing was some sort of joke.

"Calm down, no judgment, I know that's why I'm getting back so late." He said with a smirk. Sandor had already had enough of this day, this stupid man was pressing his patience.

"I don't care what you do, and you'd do best to keep your nose out of my business too."

"Fair enough," Bronn said while throwing his arms up in a mocking defeat. "So long as it wasn't Isolt you're dumping your seed into I suppose you're right." Sandors face twisted at the sick way he spoke of his own cousin. For a moment he thought of bashing his head against the wall and dumping his body alongside the assassins. This stupid fucking moron had no clue what he was talking about.

"Even if it were that would be no business of yours." Sandor began to walk away.

"I suppose you have a point. She's bound to me by blood, but she's an adult now, old enough to decide who she wants to have her on her back" He called after him, Sandor froze "I know that girl better then you could ever hope to. I was there when they burned her brother alive, she was a little pain in the arse even back then" Sandors stomach dropped, of course, he hadn't known that why would she ever tell him something like that. The fact that Bronn spoke of it so nonchalantly disgusted him. "I was there for a lot of things she probably won't ever tell you. She's a stubborn lass ain't she?"

"Aye," Sandor answered shortly.

"She's kind too, much kinder then she cares to let on." Sandor felt anger build inside him once more. Of course, he knew that he didn't know what this moron was getting from talking to him but all in was doing for Sandor was pissing him the fuck off. "I suppose you can say she's pretty too right? Not that expected sort of pretty, but certainly not bad."

"Do you have a fucking point you plan on getting to any time soon?"

"I don't have anything against you, you're a big man, a strong man and I have more sense than Isy then to go picking fights with big strong men such as yourself."

"Could've fooled me." Sandor grunted, while reaching for his dagger, Bronn eyed him cautiously, "The fuck you want from me, little man?"

"Well, to be frank, I want you to stay away from her. I've heard some rumors, whether or not it's true doesn't matter. What's done is done." Bronns smirk was quickly replaced with a scowl, "She's had a hard life, harder than most. I want her to finally have an easy life, she deserves it and I know she won't get that from you."

Sandors fingers slipped away from his blade as the grin returned to Bronns face while turning to walk away.

"Sleep well, friend." He said while leaving Sandor alone in the dimly torch-lit hallway. "Oh, and I'd appreciate it if you'd keep this between us."

As much as he hated to admit it, Sandor knew he was right. No matter how badly he wanted her, what kind of life could he ever hope to give Isolt. He was no knight, no Lord. He was just the kings' loyal lap dog. A future with him would be an impossible one. Sandor took a draining gulp from his wineskin before stumbling back towards his room, wishing he had fucked his Songbird while he had the chance. It was odd but he had come to care for the crazy woman, for once he was putting another's needs before his own not out of duty but something else. Something he didn't care to admit.

* * *

_**(A/N: Hello everyone sorry for the delay. This chapter wasn't originally in my layout but I know that a lot of you liked the last one I did from his POV so I figured I would do another one. It's difficult to do these because I don't want things to get redundant, but at the same time, I think they really show good insight on what happening from his perspective especially since this fic is a slow burn type. Anyway, thank you for your continued support, should hopefully have the next chapter up soon. I'm going to try and get as many up/written before I start up classes again since school work digs into a lot of my writing time.)**_


	14. The Battle of Blackwater

"We're going for a drink you and me," Bronn demanded as Isolt released an arrow from her longbow. She tensed up wondering if he had heard about how Clegane had been waiting in her bedroom or the fact he had snuck a corpse through the Red Keep in the middle of the night for her. Isolt furrowed her brow as she eyed him cautiously; it _had_ been ages since the two went out for a drink. "Don't be a whiny little bitch, it'll be fun. Just like old times." Bronn wrapped his arm around her with a long sigh his grin disappearing for a brief moment. "You know after this one nothing will be the same for either of us. It'll be _better_." Isolts chest tightened, she really wanted to believe her elder cousin, but something in her gut told her he was wrong. "I'm sure I will be granted a lordship and you_"

"I'll what, be given a pat on the back_" Isolt snapped while slipping out from beneath his arm. She crossed her arms over her chest while shooting him a severe glare. Bronn let out a sharp sigh before a wolfish grin creped into the corner of his lips once more.

"I was _going_ to say you'll probably receive some appealing marriage offers after all this is said and done." Isolts heart dropped at the mention of marriage. She couldn't remember if there was ever a time where that was something she desired. "Most likely not Eddmure Tully considering the state of things, but whoever they're from I'm sure it'll be nothing to sniff at." Isolt rolled her eyes, pressing her lips into a thin line. She had never wanted to marry Edmure Tully or any other Lord for that matter. She was low born; low born girls didn't marry Knights or Lords. They married fishmongers and ferrymen even as a child she had enough sense to know that.

"That's just what I need a puffed-up bladder as a husband presuming he can tell me what to do."

"You're right I don't see you marrying an old Noble house and it going well. Maybe you'd prefer a _landed knight_, I do believe the Cleganes are landed knights_" Isolts arms dropped her hands bawling into fists. Whatever reason Bronn had for mentioning the Cleganes Isolt was sure it would infuriate her.

"The Cleganes? You can't be serious. Sandors in the Kingsguard. Tyrion says they can't marry and his brother seem like an absolute brute. You saw him at the Green Fork, surely you've heard the rumors about him."

"Ah, so you've thought about it then." He said with an arched eyebrow. Isolt huffed, going to give him a shove, which he aptly dodged. "Now, now there no shame in thinking about it,"

"Fuck off no I haven't."

"Fine, whatever you say." Isolt narrowed her eyes before turning to leave. Bronn clasped her shoulder tightly "Now, now don't be like that Isy. I'm offering you a chance to bitch at me over drinks on my coin. Just like old times ey?" Isolt face softened, it wouldn't be just like old times, but she appreciated the sentiment. Bronn was the only family she had left in this world. He wasn't the kindest, or most affectionate but he was better than most of the others she could've wound up with after Gerndrick fell at the Red Fork. Isolt knew crying was a silly thing to do after one's death, but she had no doubt when Bronns time came she would shed at least a few tears for him. He could be a crude asshole, but he had essentially raised her from adolescence into womanhood. He didn't have to let her tag along with him, he didn't have to teach her all that he had, but he did and that meant the world to her.

"Let's go you old piece of shite." She slipped out from his grasp, trying her best to hide the smile that was tugging at the corner of her lips.

"Now that's what I like to hear." Isolt sighed before turning towards the courtyard only to see the men assigned to her platoon frantically struggle to seem as though they were training instead of eavesdropping on her conversation. She pressed her lips together and glanced over at Tomn who seemed to feel particularly guilty.

"Come on you louts, I suppose there's no harm in us all cutting loose before heading to the wall. You've earned it."

The men muttered their relief to be done with training and out for a drink as they made their way from the training courtyard.

"Hey Captain should I save you a seat?" Tomn called out before leaving, Bronn crossed his arms over his chest and cocked his head towards the young man, "My apologies Commander shall I_"

"Tell you what lad, I actually have a very important job for you. Come here." Tomn furrowed his brows and glanced over towards Isolt, she responded with a shrug. Whatever Bronn was going to ask of him she was sure it wouldn't be that bad. Tomn approached as Bronn pulled out a handful of gold from his pocket and placed it into the young man's hands, "Take this coin and bring it to one of the finer establishments that offer female companionship." Isolt couldn't help but giggle as Tomns ears and cheeks went bright red. "The Peach always has the best selection I believe. Simply tell the mistress Bronn sent you and give her the coin, then bring them down to the tavern. The one you Lannister men always drink at. If this is to be out last night on earth Gods you'd best believe I'm going to make it a great fucking night." Tomn nodded before running off.

"No need to scare the poor boy." She muttered as they left the courtyard, keeping some distance between the men and themselves. She glanced down at the floor, going off for a night of drinking with Bronn was certainly nothing new, but something about it felt off. She wasn't sure if it was just their surroundings that had changed or if they themselves had changed. If they had changed she wondered if it was for the better. Sure Bronn had a fancy title now and plenty of gold to waste on life pleasures, but he seemed even greedier then he had been before. When they were on the road it was about getting by, just surviving. Now that she was in a position to thrive Isolt felt lost.

She was relieved when they arrived at the tavern she had come the night the Company of the Cats had first attacked her in Kings Landing. She glanced around at the familiar faces of the Lannister men, many of who would be under her command later that evening. Isolt took a seat beside Bronn at a long table as he called a barmaid over.

"Brown ale Ser?" The buxom brunette tavern maid asked as she picked up the empty goblets that lay on the table before them

"Aye a pitcher of that for me and for the girl, she'll have a pitcher of dornish red." Before there could be any objections Bronn placed a fair bit of gold in her hand before she scurried back to the bar.

"You still prefer that sweet shite right?" Bronn leaned his elbows on the table as he glanced over at Isolt. Her cheeks flushed for a moment as she turned from him. The woman returned with their pitchers and cups pouring them both a glass before leaving. Isolt narrowed her eyes over at Bronn before taking a healthy swig of wine letting it warm her chest and face.

"I don't see how you can stand something so bitter. I'll drink anything really, but aye it's the sweet wine that I enjoy the most."

"I remember you were always such a pain in the arse as a child. If I brought you ale or sour wine you'd throw a fit."

"I wouldn't throw a fit."

"Fuck off you would and you know it. I don't know where you got a taste for finer things your family was just about as poor as mine. Maybe more so with the extra mouths to feed."

"There weren't for long, first Mervin…" Isolt paused she didn't like thinking about Mervin let alone speaking about him, "Then mother… Father went not to long after that then Gendrick at the Red Fork."

"Yes I remember your brothers quite well, do you?"

"Of course I remember," Isolt said into her cup bitterly. Bronn laughed before he took a swig of ale. In truth, Mervins face had been lost to her for some time now. When she thought back on him she mostly thought of the sound of him burning alive. Isolt quickly drained her cup before slamming it down on the table and filling it once more.

"No need to get defensive, I'm just trying to talk to you. God's I'll never forget how shocked I was to see you laying there on the battlefield next to Gendrick, poor sod was bleeding like a gutted pig and so were you. You had that big nasty gash across your nose, you still never told me how you got that. Don't tell me Gen actually had you battle with him."

"I never have and I never will." Just as Bronn opened his mouth to speak, the tavern door swung open.

"I've brought the women," Tomn exclaimed as he led several beautiful scantily clad woman behind him. Isolt buried her nose in her wine glass. She had little interest in spending her night around a bunch of whores, but at least she wasn't paying for her drinks. She watched the women enter from the corner of her eye there were a few brunettes one who looked as though she had barely reached her 18th name day. There was also a beautiful young girl with auburn hair and emerald green eyes, a busty blond woman who seemed to be Isolts age and a tanned woman with dark eyes. Isolt noticed Bronns attention immediately shift towards her. She sighed; suddenly feeling very thankful for the women's arrival since it would surely put an end to this unpleasant conversation.

"Now that's what I like to see," Bronn said with a large grin as he waved the bronze-skinned woman towards him. Isolt shifted in her seat awkwardly. It wasn't the first time she had seen him interact with female company, but that didn't make it any less unpleasant for her. As she looked around the beautiful woman that now filled the room she couldn't help but wonder if Clegane had taken any of them to bed before. That was their job after all, and though he was a stubborn ass he was still a man. It was a thought that left a bitter taste in her mouth. Her stomach churned at the thought of it as she drained her glass before quickly pouring another.

As the night rolled on, Bronn paid little attention to her, he really hadn't been lying when he said it would be just like old times. Whenever they were in camp or a tavern Bronn always was the center of the party. Isolt didn't mind, she was always happy to have the eyes taken off her. Isolt drank, trying her best to keep her wits about her, after all, it was uncertain when Stannis Baratheons' men would be upon them. Isolt sighed as she wondered how Clegane was spending this night. Of course, she imagined him holed up in some brothel with a room full of whore drinking himself stupid, a thought which irritated her more than she cared to admit.

"Alright, alright lads we got a song you'll all want to hear don't we Isy?"

Isolt perked up from the table at the mention of her name, she rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand whilst nodding absentmindedly. Whatever song Bronn wanted to sing she was fine with as long as it distracted everyone from the fact she had drunk until passing out.

"Aye, and what song will that be?"

"The best Lannister song I know, The Rains of Castamere." Isolt rolled her eyes, she had always hated this song, but there was no denying it would likely boot moral. "Alright Isy, up you go then. I don't think all these men have heard what a lovely singing voice you've had yet."

"Fuck off," She muttered while sitting up on the table, she felt much to unsteady to stand.

"I assure you her voice is much nicer than her face." Then men burst out laughing causing Isolts cheeks to grew warm. She was by no means vain, but no one enjoyed being laughed at.

"If you don't stop laughing I'll stab you all in the eye instead." She croaked, a few chuckles followed her empty threat but soon the in fell silent. "You sing it too." She snapped to Bronn, he shrugged and gave her a sharp nod of agreement. tankard, placing in down on the table silently.

"_And who are you, the proud Lord said,_

_That I must bow so low?_

_Only a cat of a different coat,_

_That's all the truth I know._

_In a coat of gold or a coat of red,_

_A lion still had claws,_

_And mine are long and sharp, my Lord,_

_As long and sharp as yours._

_And so he spoke, and so he spoke_

_That Lord of Castamere_

_But now the rains weep o'er his hall,_

_With no one there to here._

_Yes now the rains weeps o'er his hall,_

_And not a soul to hear."_

As the song wrapped up Isolt felt her cheeks grow warm from the cheers of the men who had sung along.

"Where'd you learn the Lannister song?" A stocky blonde-haired Lannister asked.

"Drunk Lannisters," Bronn answered before she got a chance followed by a swig of ale. The room fell silent as a soft clang of metal footsteps filled the room. Isolt turned her head to see who when all the other men's expressions instantly dropped. When she saw it was the Hound she immediately saw why everyone else had fallen silent. He glowered sternly towards Bronn and herself while he and the Lannister soldier he was with made their way to the table in the corner. Isolt placed her cup down on the table beside her and glared over at him. He seemed in a much fouler mood than usual.

"Welcome friends, this rounds on me," Bronn said in what Isolt assumed was an attempt to keep the Hound calm. She watched in silence as one glance from the Hound sent the two soldiers sitting in the far corner running leaving their drinks in the process. Bronn glanced around the room awkwardly, as Isolt slowly rose to her feet. Bronn shot her a sharp look before shaking his head, Isolt ignored him and continued to stand. "Don't think he likes me," Bronn whispered to the nude whore who sat on his lap. She smiled at his comment as. Isolt glanced between the two men as each took a large gulp from their tankards. Bronn leaned back in his seat, petting the woman's thigh as Clegane turned his attention to him. Bronn tilted his head toward him with a cocky expression only he would be foolish enough to direct towards Clegane.

"You think you're a hard man?" Clegane asked his eyebrow slightly rose though the rest of his face was stoic. Bronn smirked laughing in response while giving his whore a playful slap on the ass. Isolt shut her eyes as her breath caught in her chest, it seemed Bronn found himself above the advice he had once given her to leave the Hound alone.

"Oh-ho-hooo I know it." He said with a sly grin, the men in the tavern laughed at his crude comment. Isolt remained calm on the outside while glancing towards Clegane for his reaction; he caught her gaze for a moment his face seeming to snarl slightly before Bronn continued. "It's warm in here. We've got beautiful women and good brown ale. Plenty for everyone and all you want is to put one of us in the cold ground with no women keep us company." Each word Bronn spoke increased the severity of the sour expression that was enveloping Cleganes features.

Isolt watched silently, as Clegane continued to glower at Bronn. She wondered if it would make any difference if she spoke up. It didn't make sense why the two were arguing, Clegane had never expressed much interest in Bronn before and Bronn well he liked to tease Isolt but she couldn't see why he would have anything against him himself.

" Oh there's plenty of women in the ground, I put some there myself and so have you." Isolts heart began to knock against her ribcage as the Hound eyes for her for one brief moment before returning to Bronn, "You like fucking and drinking and singing, but killing; killings the thing you love." The Hound snarled. Isolt glanced over at Bronn as he blinked and slowly cocked his head to the side. He glanced at his cousin, his eyes shooting toward her seat, she knew it was a silent order to sit the fuck down, but she wouldn't obey, "You're just like me." Isolt grasped her dagger as Clegane rose to his feet, he either didn't notice or care. Both were possibilities which embarrassed her "Only smaller." He said, glowering down at Bronn. Though Clegane had helped her in the past Isolt was not about to let him cut her only surviving family member down in front of her very eyes for no good reason at all.

She glared up at him as he made a few steps towards Bronn ready to jump between the two if necessary. It was bold, but she felt confident that neither of the men would hurt her if it came to that.

"I'm quicker, ay?" Bronn stated, pointing a finger in Cleganes direction. He laughed toward his whore before glancing at Isolt, shaking his head slightly another plea for her to stand down. Of course, he was too proud to have her interfere with his battles. Isolt sheathed her daggers but remained standing.

"Your Lord Imps going to miss you." That statement was enough for Bronn the put down his cup and send his woman on her way with two light slaps to the ass.

"Aye, I expect he will someday." Isolts eyes grew wide as she watched Bronn place his hand on the hilt of his dagger. With a grin, he took a step towards Clegane. She wrapped her fingers around her own blade hoping no blood would be spilled between them. The two men stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, she wondered if now was the time to throw herself between them in a last-ditch effort to stop their frivolous fight.

Her heart nearly stopped at the chiming of the bell in the distance. The battle was about to begin. The men began to pour out of the tavern and Bronn continued to smirk up at the Hound as he glowered down at him. "One more drink before the wall, shall we?" Bronn asked in what Isolt hoped would be enough to diffuse the situation. Isolt shook off the men who implored her to go with them. She wasn't leaving this tavern until both Bronn and Clegane did.

"I say fuck yes to that. Come on boys." She rushed over to them grasping to mostly full flagons of ale from the table closest to her. Isolt quickly returned with her own. "To killing. Better them than us right boys." She said with a smile. Neither said a word, they clanged tankards before downing it in one gulp. Bronn placed his down and turned to look at his cousin once more before leaving.

"I'll see you when all of this is finished, you hear?" He gave the top her head a small affectionate pat. It wasn't often Bronn showed her any affection, especially not in front of others. Bronn gave Clegane one more stern look.

"I never doubted it." She said with a small smile. Isolt watched as he left the tavern leaving the Hound and her alone. "Shall we have another before we go?" Isolt asked making her way towards the table. "That was something else… You're both always on me about picking stupid fights."

"I wasn't picking a fucking fight." He growled while sitting across from her. She sipped at the half-full cup that sat in front of her glancing at him from beneath her lashes. "I suppose you'll be fighting tonight? Can't imagine you cooped up with the other ladies singing songs or whatever nonsense they'll be doing up in the tower."

"I'll be leading some archers at the Mud Gate," Isolt said in a voice shakier then she intended. Clegane grinned at her as a small sputter of laughter fell from his lips. Her cheeks flushed a deep red as he continued to chortle. "There's nothing bloody funny about that."

"Admit it, you're scared Songbird."

"Fuck off." She sneered beginning to rise to her feet. Isolt froze for a moment as he reached for her hand holding it gently keeping her frozen in place. Her grey hues darted towards his, he met her gaze with a warmer smile then she had ever seen on him. Her jaw went slack as she returned to her seat. She pursed her lips, casting her gaze downward. "I've never led anyone before." For a moment they were silent as he grasped her hand in his. "I-I don't think_"

"Shut up, you're as good as any to lead that group of Nance's, archeries for women anyway. Probably why you're so good at it." He scoffed half-heartedly before taking a swig of wine. Isolt glanced up at him her heart pounding through her ribs as she noticed his attention was still fixed on her. She gnawed her bottom lip feeling slightly embarrassed by his seemingly unbroken stare. Despite the heated, and thankfully, the subdued exchange between the Hound and Bronn he seemed to cast that contempt away when looking at her. Isolt tilted her head slightly giving his hand a small squeeze. The words were harsh, but the tone was different from what she had come to expect from him. "What the fucks the look for?"

"You never came back for your payment," Isolt said quietly, though his face showed no interest in her words his actions betrayed him by leaning in closer towards her. "You seemed so keen on it the other night…" Isolt traced her fingers along his before drawing her hand back to her lap. He took a gulp of ale, watching her from the corner of his eye. She pinched at her hide trousers nervously before continuing "I'm afraid I'm not wearing anything pretty for you," Isolt glanced at her jet black leather cuirass, "And we don't have time for another song, but I hope I can give you something small before we battle it out with the Baratheons." She leaned in closer to him trying to find the nerve to close the gap. His blank stare and clenched jaw did nothing to bolster her confidence.

"Oh and what the fuck would that_" Isolt cut him off, leaning over the table and pressing her lips gently against his. She tasted bitter ale on his lips as his body tensed up beneath her, for a moment she half expected him to slap her away from him. He had always reacted so poorly when she tried to touch him and this was an entirely new level of touch. Isolt began to pull away only to have Clegane bring a hand to the back of her neck, holding her in place. A shiver of goosebumps crossed her flesh as he ran his fingers through the back of her hair, gripping a small handful at her scalp. A soft moan escaped her lips into his before she brought a steady hand towards the right side of his face.

He didn't shirk from her grasp, as she had expected he would. Instead, he seemed to lean into her more. The scared flesh felt oddly warm and ridged beneath her fingertips. As he parted his lips Isolt forced herself away breathless and flushed leaving him gaping up at her his hand falling softly to her shoulder. Isolts lips curved into a small smirk, as it seemed he was left in a state of shock. Her fingertips slipped down his face past the stubble on his chin and neck coming to rest on the black brigandine that covered his chest. She caught his gaze as his grip on her shoulder tightened.

"Don't you dare die out there Clegane." If the Hound had any objections to what had just occurred, she wouldn't know. Before he could utter a word she left rushing towards the Mud Gate. Her heart raced as she blindly ran through the streets of Kings Landing. It seemed all the other guards were doing the same, in a much more frantic tone then she would've liked. She pushed them from her mind, just as she pushed Clegane slack-jawed gape towards her following her unexpected kiss and her reasoning behind doing it. If anyone asked she would claim it was to pay a debt that she owed him, of course, Isolt knew deep down that was a lie. Part of her had wished he held her there with him for just a little bit longer though she would never admit that to him. Of course, his actions seemed to indicate interest on his part, but Isolt doubted she should take them for any more than their face value.

Isolts cheeks were still flushed as she arrived at the Mud Gate. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw Tyrion standing beside Joffrey and the Hound. How he had beaten her there was a miracle; Isolt did her best to avoid his gaze.

"About bloody time," Tyrion whispered harshly as Isolt arrived at her station. She looked around still feeling flustered as she saw her men in position already.

"Just like a woman to be late." Joffrey scoffed as she pulled the bow from her back while stepping into line, "Is this really who you've given the command to? I'm better off_"

"Do not say another word," Tyrion warned in a much sterner tone than she had ever heard him use. "That woman you foolishly continue to mock has killed more people then your feeble little brain could possibly imagine. If you just shut up and let her work she can show you why I hold her in such high regard." Isolt froze at his praise, feeling uneasy under the weight of this newfound responsibility. Her face blanched as she dared a glance at the Hound, he was watching her from the corner of his eye with an infuriatingly unreadable expression.

One thing could be said for his demeanor towards her, his once icy glower appeared absent. His gaze made her warm in the cheeks and uncomfortably weak at the knees. Isolt gripped the stone wall beside her, trying her best to remain stoic. Tyrion looked back at Isolt with a quirked brow. It seemed he had noticed her falter.

"Get ready, I'm giving Bronn the signal now." Isolt nodded in response still unclear what his plan entailed. A shrivled old man hobbled towards them and handed Tyrion a torch. She watched as he dropped the torch over the side of the wall. A tense moment passed before a single flaming arrow flew in the distance towards Stannis' fleet. Her heart dropped as the Blackwater was consumed in an intensely bright flash of green. Isolt shut her eyes briefly shocked that the heat had reached her with such intensity from so far away. As the screams of burning men howled in the distance a shiver ran up her spine before glancing at Clegane from the corner of her eyes.

Isolt was sure no one else saw it, but she had no doubt. This was the first time she had seen it on him, but there was no mistaking the fear in him. His face went pale as he stood slack jawed and blinking at the green fire consuming the water and the ships in it's path. The Hound seemed to sense his shift in demeanor, quickly shutting his jaw and twisting his mouth in clear repulsion at the sight that lay before them.

If they were alone she would've grasped his hand again, she would've assure him of the distance between the sea of flames and himself. She had sensed the discomfort close proximity to flames had brought him in the past, this was the first time she was seeing it up close with such severity. Isolt tightened her hand into a fist before glaring down at Tyrion. She wasn't sure what was worse what Tyrion had just done or the fact he hadn't told her about it from the start. The fact he had given Bronn the order to shoot that arrow cemented what she had already believed to be true; she was replaceable to him Bronn was not. He clearly questioned her willingness or ability to do what he asked of her and he had every right too. Isolt wasn't sure if she would have shot that arrow even if Tyrion had commanded it of her.

"You told Bronn but not me." Isolt said so quietly she barely heard it herself.

"Hound form a welcome party for any Baratheon troops that manage to touch solid ground." Tyrion said seeming completely oblivious to her statement. Isolt opened her mouth to object, Clegane silenced her by placing a hand on her shoulder. Despite the many eyes on the two of them, Isolt placed her hand on top of his locking her stormy grey eyes with his. He gave her a small nod before releasing her from his grasp, before he could step too far Isolt grasped his arm in a desperate attempt to have him stay. She didn't want him to be out there, she wanted him close to her. He gave her a melonchlic smile before taking her hand once more and pressing it to his lips.

"Don't fret." Clegane said softly while releasing her hand. He kept his eyes on her while making his way down the stairs. Her chest tightened as he rallied his men and made his way towards the gate.

"Don't forget!" She shouted. Tyrion glanced up at her as confused as everyone else within close proximity. The Hound looked back over his shoulder at her giving her a short nod.

"I wont Songbird." He said with a small flash of a grin before leaving. For a moment her breath seemed caught in her throat. "Just keep those flaming fucking arrows away from me."

"Let's go," She heard him bellow from the courtyard beneath her. Isolt backed away from the edge and glanced out to the smoldering grren flame that had engulfed much of Stannis' fleet. "Stannis is sending us fresh meat." Isolt turned her back to the green flames that spread across the Blackwater and assured herself Clegane would make it through the night. There was no way he would fall. He was strong and brave and he would come back to her alive and well.

"Care to explain what that was that all about?" Tyrion said snapping her back into reality, Isolt remained facing away from him and the battle. "Since when are you and Clegane exchanging such niceties? I see the name 'Songbirds' stuck."

"Shut up."

"I suppose you're right we should discuss this further later after the battle is won." Isolt narrowed her eyes at him, she had no desire to discuss her relationship with Clegane any further. Especially not with Tyrion "Hurry and start to rain fire on the Baratheons." Isolt gave him a wry smile.

"What are you doing! Give the order to attack, do it now. Your King commands it!" Isolt narrowed her eyes up at Joffrey hoping he wouldn't be lucky enough to see tomorrow. She pursed her lips and stepped into position in the center of her men. She merely glared down at Tyrion for a moment realizing how painful loosing respect for a man you once held in high regard truly was.

"Ready!" She belted while lifting her bow from her back and setting an arrowhead aflame with the torch the lay beside her. "Knock!" Isolt shouted, she squinted to the field it was a mass of burning men crawling to shore in search of refuge from the fire only to be struck down by the Lannister army. "Fire!" She said releasing the first round of arrows alongside her men. She sighed as the scent of burning flesh filled her nose. She suppressed a small gag while wondering how many more were burning as well as how many were their men. Isolt continued her ranged fire for as long as she safely could. She glanced at Tyrion then down the line of men. "We should prepare for melee his men are at our gate."

"Who's fault is that you stupid bitch!" Joffrey snapped glowering at her, his face growing blotchy and red. As the gate was opened her heart sank for a moment. Isolt she pulled her daggers from the belt around her waist. She immediately lowered them when she saw Sandor standing in the courtyard below covered in blood demanding a drink. Isolt paused before slowly making her way towards him beside Tyrion.

"Can I get you some iced milk and a nice bowl of raspberries?" Tyrion remarked his tone sharp and chiding. The Hound merely glared up from his wind for a moment before responding gruffly.

"Eat shite, dwarf."

"You're on the wrong side of the wall."

"I lost half my men." He said seemingly dazed, "The Blackwaters on fire." Cleganes voice cracked. Isolt took a step downwards closer to him, Tyrion held up an arm silently commanding her to stop.

"I command you to go back out there and fight!" Jofrrey screamed in the same tone a child having a tantrum would. Sandor Clegane fixed his eyes to the ground before him as Isolt Tyrion and Joffrey watched in a tense silence. She went to take another step, prompting Tyrion to grasp her arm this time, holding it tightly as his stubby little hands could.

"You're Kingsguard Clegane. You must beat them back or they're going to take this city. Your Kings city." Tyrion yelled as Sandor stared off in the distance drinking more wine. Isolt dare not move as he placed his gaze on her for a brief moment.

"Fuck this Kingsguard." Clegane said still seeming to catch his breath from the battlefield, he locked eyes with Tyrion as he continued, "Fuck the city, fuck the King." Cleganes chest heaved for a moment before he turned and briskly walked from view. Isolt went to go after him on to have Tyrion pull on her arm tightly. She narrowed her eyes down at him.

"Release me." She commanded. Tyrion furrowed his brow locking his eyes with hers. Isolt drew a dagger with her free hand and held it towards him "I wont ask twice." Joffrry was too shocked to pay any mind to her actions.

"Whatever you're thinking of doing, don't. I assure you it's a mistake just stay and_"

"I don't think its mistake. The only mistake I've made was staying in this shite heap of a city as long as I have" Isolt said with a small laugh, she glanced over at Joffrey who seemed frozen in shock from Cleganes statements. "I have places I'd rather be, people I'd rather be with. I had told you I wouldn't get on well in the capitol." Tyrion slowly released his grasp on her. "You tried little man, we all did, but I never signed up to help kill babies or burn hundreds of men alive. I'm done."

"That's why we didn't tell you Bronn knew_"

"Not another word," Isolt flashed her unseathed dagger towards him once more. Tyrion threw his arms in the air and took a step back, giving her a small nod. Isolt returned it with a smirk, "I have to say though, it was fun while it lasted."

"What do I tell Bronn?"

"Pfft, he wont fucking care. He's getting everything he's always wanted: women, status, money and most importantly he's finally rid of me for good. You can tell him that." Isolt turned not wanting to give Tyrion another chance to talk her out of leaving. "This was wrong." She said solemnly while sheathing her dagger and leaving the battlefield

Isolt walked back through the Keep the sound of battle was still ringing out in the city but it was almost drowned out by the sound of her heart pounding in her ears . She walked through the mob of soldiers hoping none tried to stop her. Upon reaching her room Isolt quickly packed everything of value that she could carry. It was odd to think she would be on the road again. Her time at Kings Landing hadn't been exactly pleasant, but she would certainly miss her bed.

She walked to the stables, her breath catching in her throat at the sight of Sandor Clegane drunkenly saddling his massive black courser. Of course, she had been hoping to find him, but she hadn't been expecting to run into him at the stables. Isolt walked up beside him silently before he could say a word she helped him straighten his saddle before going towards the speckled mare she had rode into Kings Landing.

"The fuck you doing?" He spat, Isolt narrowed her eyes at him for a moment before returning her attention to the task at hand. He knew what she was doing there was no need to answer. "They'll be after me."

"So? You act as though I don't have men after me. Besides I'd also rather be some where that isn't burning. Besides, don't I owe you a favor still?"

"You really are a fool?"

"I'm a fool? Sure I think Joffreys a twat, but I didn't just tell him to fuck off to his face."

"Don't get in my way." He relented, mounting his courser. Isolt smiled to herself while hoisting herself a top her mare.

"I wouldn't dream of it."

* * *

_**(A/N: Sorry for the delay classes have started up again which unfortunately means posting will be a bit sporadic. Hopefully, this chapter was worth the wait. Thank you all so much for your words of encouragement I'm so happy that this story and Isolt are being so well received. I will try to post the next chapter as soon as I possible can without compromising quality. Love you all and again thank you from the bottom of my heart for sticking with me through this little journey.)**_


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